Menagerie
by j3nnee
Summary: A collection of Short Stories and Drabbles in the world of White Collar.  I don't own anything but I do like playing with the characters when I can.  Expect some spoilers from all seasons, maybe some whumpage, angst, oddness, AU and more.
1. Alley Cat

**Menagerie** - A collection of Short Stories and Drabbles in the world of White Collar. (_I don't own anything but I do like playing with the characters when I can._)

**Drabbles #1** - _Alley Cat  
_(Humor, Friendship)

**oOoOoOo**

Peter was frustrated at Neal's antics yet again. He had almost cost him his job while trying to catch him with his paws in another mess. Elizabeth tried to soothe him but he refused to be calmed.

"This has to stop, El! I can't have him stealing stuff because he feels like he's entitled to it. I know he's had a hard past but ever since I brought him here, he's just gotten worse!" Peter sounded frustrated and angry but El continued to hug him, rubbing his neck gently.

"Honey, he's troubled, you know that. He's from a broken home. You just have to give him time after everything that's happened. He lost Kate and Mozzie was hurt out on the street. He's going to act up with his family broken up like this.

El turned as she saw Satchmo barking, his attention at a figure over by the sofa. It was Neal. She blinked as did Peter, neither of them having heard him enter.

"Where have you been? Don't act coy with me..." Peter was firm as he stood and walked angrily from the dining room towards the sofa. Neal just sat there and practically purred at him.

"And how many times do I have to tell you NOT to get on the sofa! Stupid cat!" Peter bent over and lifted the feline up from the seat and placed him on the floor. Satchmo padded over and smiled his little doggy smile as if to say '_I told you so._' The cat looked at him without emotion, blue eyes glimmering with mischief.

"Now come over here and eat. El was worried about you all night when you didn't come in." Neal sat there a moment where Peter had placed him before slowly following his owner.

**oOoOoOo**

They had originally found Neal hiding out in an abandoned building filled with remnants of occupants past when Peter was out on his rounds with Animal Control. Stories of a thief stealing small items around the neighborhood had brought police to investigate. When they discovered the small cache of items, mostly shiny or soft things of minimal value in the abandoned building next door, they called in Peter to come flush the animal out. Neal, as they ended up calling him, had been dirty and disheveled but bowing it seemed when they caught up with him. They found him playing with a large empty Bordeaux bottle, one of his many treasures. He looked sorry for what he had done but he looked more frightened than anything. Still, when Peter had approached, he promptly jumped into the man's arms as if he had known him forever, purring softly and taking over the front seat of his car on the way to the animal shelter.

The family they had chosen had been more than happy to foster another animal. Everyone loved Neal, a beautiful black snowshoe with white feet and belly, blue eyes glittering once he'd been cleaned up and brought back to weight. He was a challenge to keep in control as he had the habit of hoarding 'borrowed' objects and returning to his old habitat apparently to visit other cats that were either litter mates or some sort of kitty tribe he'd come into. One was a female cat with dark brown hair and very elusive. They only saw her once or twice but never for long. They nicknamed her Kate. The other one was a bit skittish, short-haired with a coloring around his eyes like a mask or glasses. He was nicknamed Mozzie because he was skittish like a mouse. Neal seemed to do well with them, sad when Peter would come and take him home again. They had finally opted to putting a small tracker on his collar to keep him from roaming far from his new family although that didn't deter Neal's roaming.

At one point, Neal showed up on the doorstep of an elderly woman who lived in a big house not too far from the family Peter had placed him with. Her name was June and she came to care for the alley cat as much as his little friend Mozzie who often tagged along. Peter allowed Neal to stay at the palacious house when June said she didn't mind the company. She was happy when she discovered Neal was from a shelter. She spoke of another cat she used to own who had been of a similar background, a loving pet she missed every day. She let Neal play with the other cat's left over toys and use their former bed in a spare room on the top floor. Neal had lucked out it seemed.

**(TBC)**


	2. Sublimation wip

**Menagerie** - A collection of Short Stories and Drabbles in the world of White Collar. (_I don't own anything but I do like playing with the characters when I can._)

**Drabbles #2** - _Sublimation_

(Whumpage, Violence)

**oOoOoOo**

Peter stared up at the figure hovering above him, their eyes staring down coldly, icily. He shifted his weight, hands cuffed tightly behind him, metal bindings rattling as he blinked up at the figure surprised. He couldn't speak, his lips covered tightly in tape, mouth filled with rags.

"Kill the Fed and we can go." A man with stark blond hair, almost white, said in a cold, emotionless voice. The figure standing over Peter nodded, a gun cocked and ready as they moved closer to the Fed, weapon pointed at his head.

"Never saw it coming did you..." The man's voice was cold, eyes shuttered of any feeling. Peter blinked up, his expression torn about something. The figure just smiled, their lips parting to show bright white teeth. Peter knew that smile or so he had thought but it had been a ruse. He felt anger at himself for believing, but what could he have done?

"We'll go for his wife next. She's at home right?" The blond man spoke matter-a-factly, green eyes glittering as he waited for the final shot. He held a small pistol in his hand, cleaning it as he stood there watching. The other man nodded, brushing a dark lock from his brow.

"Yeah... She'll be the easiest target of all. See what you did, Peter? See what your trust brought?" Neal brought the gun closer to the agent's head, pushing it up against the man's temple as he saw the fear, betrayal and finally anger in those brown eyes.

"You never really trusted me, did you? I was just a tool. Well, I guess you were right for once. Good-bye, Agent Burke." Neal's voice was cold, there was nothing there that made him sound like the Neal Caffrey he had known and that's when Peter realized he had been played. He wanted to beg but knew it wouldn't matter. This was the real Neal that had been hidden away ready to pounce. He closed his eyes, felt the cold metal barrel of the gun against his skin...

The gun went off but there was nothing. No pain... nothing at all. Peter opened his eyes to see Neal standing up, wavering slightly, gun smoking but pointed at someone else. Peter turned his eyes to see the other man, the blond laying dead on the ground, eyes staring emptily back at them, the gun he'd been cleaning smoking ever so slightly. Peter blinked in surprise, confusion on his face as he made a muffled sound. He watched Neal turn slowly, head looking at him. Those blue eyes were no longer shuttered, his friend and partner there again.

"Peter..." Neal knelt beside him, movements stiff as he removed the cuffs and tape from Peter's mouth. The agent spit out the rags and coughed, looking at his friend.

"Neal? I don't understand." Peter was still angry, worried about El but realizing too late it had been a ruse. A smoke screen. Neal just smiled.

"You still don't trust me... do you? After all this..." His words trailed off as he collapsed the last few feet to the hard cement floor and lay there, a gasp coming from his lips.

"Neal..."

**(TBC)**


	3. Mars in Retrograde

**Menagerie** - A collection of Short Stories and Drabbles in the world of White Collar. (_I don't own anything but I do like playing with the characters when I can._)

**Drabbles #3** - _Mars in Retrograde... Part 1_

(Humor, Spoof)

**oOoOoOo**

**Cast:**

Nina Caffrey

Patricia Burke / Alan Burke (Al)

Alexander Hunter

Mizzie

Jonathan / Beryl

Regina Hughes

Christina Jones

David Berrigan

Grace Fowler

Scenes from White Collar rewritten:

**1) Airport Scene: Meeting with the Bookseller.** (_shortened_)

Patricia Burke: David is my junior agent. He handles all my research. He's very good at it and he can do better than you.

David: You must be Caffrey. Dig the shoes.

Nina: He digs the shoes.

Patricia: Trust me, he'd rather be wearing the shoes.

**(TBC)**


	4. I know you are or do I? wip

**Menagerie** - A collection of Short Stories and Drabbles in the world of White Collar. (_I don't own anything but I do like playing with the characters when I can._)

**Drabbles #4** - _I know you are... or do I?_

(Humor, Whumpage)

**oOoOoOo**

He woke up with a horrible headache, the blood pounding loudly in his ears. He heard a soft groan escape his lips as he rolled over and opened his eyes. They closed almost immediately before cautiously opening once again, squinting as his eyes adjusted to the light.

He lay on the floor, cool cement he noticed as he saw something like pillars scattered around the space. It appeared to be a parking garage he thought, although that was all he could come up with, his mind reaching to figure out where, why and who. He rubbed at his right temple, a throbbing pain in his head as he winced. He felt something wet and sticky as he pulled his hand away, his fingers covered in a red liquid. It was blood. His eyes widened as he scooted up to a sitting position against a nearby pillar. He felt into his pocket to find something cold and metallic there. A gun.

_Why was there blood? What happened and why didn't he..._

The thought fizzled when he saw the other figure laying just a few feet away. He slowly crawled towards the figure noticing the pool of blood beneath them as he gently nudged them. The figure slumped over, eyes closed, face pale. He gasped looking at the still figure, feeling for a pulse but not feeling anything, their skin cool to the touch. He didn't know the person, unsure who they were, but seeing the gunshot in their chest and knowing he had a gun made him wonder if he had done this. He couldn't...

_Watch out!_

His head throbbed as the thought broke through the blankness of his mind. Had he... shot this man? He heard sirens in the distance, a cold feeling of fear and terror washing over him. He stumbled to his feet, looking for a way out and seeing a door towards the back of the structure, quickly making his way out. He stumbled out into the sunlight, his eyes hurting but he kept running as the sirens approached, a voice talking in his memory.

_Neal..._

Was that his name? He didn't know why that name stuck out but the face he saw if only briefly was the dead man's. The man had spoken that name to him. He only turned back a moment to see dark vehicles with sirens swarming in the distance as he escaped into the city unseen.

**(TBC)**


	5. The Fix wip

**Menagerie** - A collection of Short Stories and Drabbles in the world of White Collar. (_I don't own anything but I do like playing with the characters when I can._)

**Drabbles #5** - _The Fix_

(_Whumpage, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Reference to Drug usage_)

**oOoOoOo**

Neal glanced around alley outside the old tenement house and noticed immediately the broken window on the third floor. He was glad he decided against a suit for once, instead opting for some black denim jeans with a dark blue flannel button up over a black tee. He had a leather jacket that matched, looking quite the sophisticate or maybe the cat burglar type if Peter were here.

_Peter..._

He sighed looking up at the window and knowing he had to get in there. It was a bit of a climb with the fire escape missing but there were storm pipes that look more than sturdy enough. One stopped short of the window but he should be able to get far enough. He glanced around on the gloomy winter's day and saw nobody passing by as he shuffled casually into the alley underneath his point of entry. Neal pulled on some leather gloves he had for the cool weather as he took a hold of the metal staples that held the pipe in place and used it and parts of the aging , pitted brick as hand and footholds. Everything held for the meanwhile as he agilely made his way upwards, closer to the broken window.

Neal managed to stretch up and reach the ledge, getting a good grip with one hand and pulling himself up till he was inside, broken glass on the ground where he had pushed in the remaining shards. He was thankful he had brought gloves, seeing a few small cuts on them where they would have been on his hands. He quietly crossed the dusty, empty room, an open door 10 feet to his right. Neal stepped through into a dustier hallway, empty and as forlorn as the other room. It seemed abandoned if anything but this was the place. He quietly crept further down the hall when he heard a scraping sound ahead. Neal paused, listening as he honed in on where the sound was coming from. Finally he saw a door at the end of the hallway, the only door that didn't look decomposed with age. He headed quietly towards the door, the scraping sound getting louder as he approached.

He pushed his ear to the door and listened but only the scraping sound could be heard. It might be an animal but it sounded too rhythmic. Neal pulled a small case from his pocket and opened it up. Inside were what looked like metal picks, his thin artistic fingers drawing two out and quietly working on the door's lock. It only took him a few minutes and the lock popped open, Neal turning the knob slowly and deliberately.

The room was dusty like the other rooms, a dirty mattress in the corner on the floor. A radiator sat nearby which was the source of the scraping, a figure laying still on the mattress, eyes closed, tape over their mouth and hands bound over their had with metal cuffs to the pipe.

"_Peter?_" Neal hissed as he glanced around the dimly lit room. The windows had been boarded shut with scrap metal, very little light entering the room. The figure didn't respond, the scraping sound from their cuffs moving against the radiator pipe. The figure lay on the dirty mattress, a low groan erupting from the figure's throat. Neal moved a bit closer, taking out a small pen light and shining it at the figure which made him gasp.

"_Peter..._" His voice trailed off as he saw it was his friend. Peter lay shirtless, his chest covered in bruises and scratches. Dried blood covered most of the agent's chest and clotted blood stuck thickly to his forehead where it had dripped down his temple from a wound. Neal tried not to panic as he saw his friend laying there hurt. He was just glad the man was alive and his sources had been correct.

"_Peter... wake up._" He whispered quietly, glancing back occasionally. He wondered why the men asking for ransom would leave their victim alone. The whole setup made Neal nervous for some reason. He pulled the picks out again and undid the cuffs as he freed his friend, removing the tape and rags from Peter's mouth.

"_Peter... it's Neal... wake up!_" He was begging now, his voice quiet as he held his friend close and tried to nudge him to consciousness. The agent slumped loosely against him.

"_Peter..._" Neal sighed in frustration but he had to get his friend out. He was sure he couldn't drag him out the window with him but would have to find a way down to the street level and outside. He pulled out his cell hoping Jones would pick up. He was surprised when he heard the beep and looked to find there was no signal. Why wouldn't he have a signal in the city? It didn't make any...

He never got to finish the thought as someone cuffed him against the back of the head. Neal slumped over beside his friend. His gloved hands struggled to push against the dirty floor and mattress but he was stunned and unable to do much. Someone lifted him up and pressed him against the wall, one arm twisted hard behind him. Neal winced but something was stuffed into his mouth, tape pulled over his lips. He was vaguely aware of two dark figures with masks standing there, one of them holding him firmly.

"Ah... so the partner comes to the rescue. It's a shame you won't be leaving. Hold him still!" Neal felt the grip on his arm twisted more till he was forced to stiffen his body, a hand around his neck and chest holding him erect. He could just make out that the man was pulling something out of his pocket. Neal's eyes widened as the saw the Kbar held before him, the blade brought down to his free arm and cut up the side. He twitched in fear but only heard a ripping sound as his jacket sleeve and shirt were opened up. The blade didn't catch his skin luckily as the man tossed it aside and took his arm firmly in his hand. The masked man pulled out a rubber tube and tied it around Neal's upper arm till he could feel it start to go a bit numb. He struggled ever so slightly but was held tight.

"We waited for you to try this out knowing your past. Figured it would be a good way to get rid of an asset that would otherwise put our boss away for good." The man was smiling, finishing up with the tourniquet as he started pulling out a bottle and syringe. He inserted the latter and drew in a large amount of the yellowish liquid. It looked vile as the man tapped the needle and then pulled Neal's arm taut and stuck it into a vein. Neal winced seeing the jaundiced liquid pushed into his veins. It burned upon contact, his body twitching as it entered his system. Whatever they were giving him it felt like liquid fire burning inside of him, the feeling coursing slowly up his arm as the tourniquet was removed and it moved further up into his body. He felt his other arm freed as he was dropped to the ground.

"We won't bother cuffing you knowing your track record for escaping but you won't want to move for a bit. Here's the bottle for when you want more." The man laughed menacingly, dropping the bottle and a clean syringe in plastic beside him on the floor. Neal's eyes unfocused as they rolled back into his head and he felt the drug course throughout his body, vision slowly fading to black.

**(TBC)**


	6. ADditions

**Menagerie** - A collection of Short Stories and Drabbles in the world of White Collar. (_I don't own anything but I do like playing with the characters when I can._)

**Drabbles #6** - _ADditions_  
(_Humor and oddness. May make more sense to people of a certain age._)

**oOoOoOo**

**1)** _Mozzie and Peter in Tuesday_:

**Mozzie:** Your peanut butter fell on my Chi, Suit!  
**Peter:** Your Chi fell into my peanut butter, Mozz...

**A/N****:** (_based off an old Reese's Peanut butter cup ad of my youth._)

**2)** _Mozzie, Neal and Peter at June's:_

**Neal:** Ixnay on the nollkay, Mozz.  
**Mozzie:** But he has to be aware there were shots and how many!**  
Peter:** Calgon, take me away!

**A/N****:** (_based off an old Calgon ad of my youth._)

**3)** _Neal and Peter at the Bureau:_

**Peter: **How did you do that trick, Neal?  
**Neal:** Ancient conman secret, Peter.  
**Peter:** Hmmm... Ancient conman secret my butt... I think I saw this on an episode of David Coperfield.

**A/N****:** (_based off an old Calgon ad of my youth._)

**4) **_Neal, Diana, Jones and Peter at the Bureau:_

**Neal: (**_**whispering**_**) **_I'm secretly going to replace the mud at work they call __coffee__ with some of June's Italian roast. Let's see what happens..._**  
Jones:** Hey the usual mud tastes pretty good. What do you think Diana?  
**Diana:** Hmmm... yeah something different about it but I can't say what exactly. What do you think boss?  
**Peter:** _Cappuccino in the clouds_... Huh? Oh... uhm yeah, it's definitely... wait a second. Neal? Did you do something with the coffee machine again? Neal? Where did he run off to?

**A/N****:** (_based off an old Folger's ad of my youth._)

**(TBC)**


	7. Bloodwork wip

**Menagerie** - A collection of Short Stories and Drabbles in the world of White Collar. (_I don't own anything but I do like playing with the characters when I can._)

**Drabbles #7** - _Bloodwork_

(_Halloween inspired, whump, supernatural_)

**oOoOoOo**

He could smell it, the bouquet just as sweet it seemed to his nose as a fine wine. It didn't make sense to him, his mind fighting to make decisions over the thoughts that threatened to push him over the edge.

"Do it already... You'll feel better once you have." The voice spoke to him, his eyes only turning a moment to stare into dark black orbs. He saw the pale face around it but those eyes are what drew him in. There was a glow behind them that attracted him like a moth to a flame. It's what had trapped him in the first place against his will. With some effort he shook his head and turned away.

"You know you want to do this. You have to." The man speaking made a motion he was only just aware of, the figures holding him, pushing him forward. He was pressed to his knees before another figure that lay sprawled on the floor. He pulled away, pushing back against those holding him but the scent drew him with a combination of want and horror.

"No... Don't make me do this. Please." He felt his tongue flick across his teeth and they felt sharp. He was changing already as they continued to hold him, arms pulled back behind him tightly, head pushed down towards the figure on the floor. The scent grew sweeter, stronger and he was giving in. He watched the figure's eyes twitch but they remained still as he was pressed closer to them.

_I can't do this... Peter, help me! Someone..._

"Feed before I kill him myself! Take the agent Mr. Halden. Drink his blood and you'll be free of your past." The man's voice was rising in a kind of crescendo, the tone making Neal want to give in to the need. His teeth were feeling sharper by the moment.

Peter moved ever so slightly, eyes fluttering beneath closed lids but he didn't wake otherwise. They had trapped them both but Neal had already been in the group undercover when they initiated him. He'd been distracted by the collection they held. Artworks nobody had seen in centuries were here in NYC in Yosef c's vault. It made no sense till he had been taken. Peter had come to his rescue but Machelli had been prepared even for that as if expecting it.

"I can't... hurt him." He could just barely talk, the smell of blood making him want to move closer. The side of Peter's face was clotted with red from a gash, Neal unable to look away as he was pressed even closer. His lips were parting in anticipation despite the disgust that washed over him.

_No... can't... can't give in._

He had never noticed how Peter smelled before at least no more than any other person. He knew how Kate had smelled, her hair like the scent of flowers in Summer, Central Park and so many other things that excited him. But the agent had always been so plain like his taste in clothes. He wasn't a bad dresser but Peter was happy with simplicity. It was now he noticed the man's cologne and a slight hint of what he could only guess was perfume of his wife Elizabeth. He could even pick up small bits of others they knew, people Peter had interacted with. Neal began to wonder if Jones knew where they were or even Diana.

All these aromas filled his nostrils along with others but all it did was draw him nearer despite a part of him still resisting.

"You want incentive, Nicholaus?" The man made a motion and another figure appeared as if from thin air, crouching beside the seemingly unconscious Peter grabbing up the agent's wrist. They held a sharp blade, cutting at the skin slowly, a ribbon of red dribbling out of the wound. Neal felt his breath intake as if someone had punched him. He could barely think as the red took up his thoughts. It's smell was sweet as he licked at his lips without realizing it. The man held the wrist up and moved it towards the consultant's face. Neal felt his lips part in anticipation.

"Drink, child. This wine is our life."

Neal was only giving a cursory glance to his friend, his mind concentrating on the ribbon of red fraying slowly before him. A drop was about to fall from the upheld wrist but he caught it on his finger, uncertain when they had freed his arms. He was now moving closer on his own. He stared at the drop of red on his pale skin, moving it towards his nose and sniffing in the pungent scent of iron. He touched the dot of red to his lips reluctantly at first then the bitter taste of blood made him excited.

"Yes, that's it Nicholaus. Drink more." Machelli spoke enticingly, Neal nodding as he took Peter's wrist from the other man. Warm blood dripped onto his hand as he did so.

"Listen to his heart beating, Nicholaus. Drink till it slows and stops."

Neal nodded without turning, his lips touching the cut as more warmth filled him and his hunger grew. He needed this. Peter had plenty. Just a little, he thought and he would stop. Neal wouldn't actually kill his friend but he kept drinking the sweet liquid sensing a kind of rhythm in the background. It took a moment for him to realize it was Peter's heartbeat quickening. The agent was unconscious but gave a soft groan, pulling weakly at the wrist Neal held without waking.

_I have to do this to live. Peter will understand. El..._

That's what made him stop as he pulled his lips from the wound. He couldn't do this to her... to them. They were like family. Neal couldn't hurt her like this. He had to protect Peter. Something cold filled him and he turned, staring up at Machelli and the others. The man was smiling, white teeth gleaming.

"Let us leave sweet Nicholaus with his friend." The others seemed to vanish like smoke, Machelli leaving it seemed like the Cheshire cat, his smile the last thing to go and then Neal was left with Peter. He wiped at his mouth and shook his friend once he sensed they were truly gone.

"Peter... Peter wake up!" He was whispering in desperation. The agent seemed sluggish, unresponsive beyond the occasional groan. Neal shook him harder.

"Peter!" Neal slapped the agent's face hard, brown eyes finally looking up at him with a dull expression, pupils huge.

"Ne... al? Where..." Peter's eyes rolled back and closed, Neal shaking him hard but getting no response. They had him under a spell or something or maybe that blow to the head had been harder than he thought.

"Peter..." The agent didn't respond as Neal pulled off one sleeve from his shirt and used it to wrap Peter's wound before lifting the man easily. They were gone for now, Machelli certain Neal would change, convert. He felt the urge to take another drink but resisted as he saw a window and made his way towards it. They were four stories up but a rooftop was obvious across the way.

There was a crash of glass, the room empty as a figure watched them leave, a cold smile on their pale face.

**(TBC)**

**Author Note****:** _Another Halloween oriented story. Enjoy!_


	8. Ghost of a Chance wip

**Menagerie** - A collection of Short Stories and Drabbles in the world of White Collar. (_I don't own anything but I do like playing with the characters when I can._)

**Drabbles #8** - "_Ghost of a Chance"_

(_Halloween inspired, whump, supernatural_)

**oOoOoOo**

Peter shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs as he came to. He was sore, body and head leaning forward weakly as he realized he was bound securely to a wooden chair. He tried to shift some but the ropes held him tight and the chair must have been bolted down as it didn't move. The agent gave a weak groan, the pain in the back of his head where someone had clocked him throbbing with a rhythm all its own.

_I told you to watch out._

He turned his head at the sound of the faint voice, the room empty except for himself. Peter thought he must be hearing things, looking around the large dusty space. It looked to be an old bottling plant of some kind, a few large glass ewers floating around or shatter among the ruins of the buildings shell. He gave a muffled grunt, rags filling his mouth and tape pulled over his lips tightly.

_Did you need help with those ropes, Peter?_

The agent turned as someone spoke, someone familiar but it couldn't be. He was gone, the agent glancing at the figure lying still in the corner in a pool of blood. He felt something warm drip from his eyes and a cool wisp of air touched his cheek .

_Are you crying, Peter?_

Peter shook his head despite the oddness of the situation but the cool wisp of air continued around him, brushing at his wrists and slowly the ropes began to loosen although he was still trapped.

_They always make this seem so easy in the movies. Give me a minute._

Peter pulled once more and felt his wrists freed, unraveling the ropes from around him. The voice spoke again, a kind of ache in his head as it did, a sick feeling coming over him. He moved quickly to an old bin and leaned over throwing up. He felt the hint of a hand on his back, cool air making him shiver.

_You ok, Peter?_

Peter shook his head, sliding down to the floor to sit. He felt dizzy, icy cold chills running up and down his spine. He closed his eyes and saw him standing there, at least in his mind's eye he did. Neal looked the same as he had before everything went wrong. The young man moved oddly, like a slow motion movie, the colors a little off.

"Neal? How..." He opened his eyes but there was nothing there. He felt a movement but it was subtle like sensing wind than a person.

_How what? What's wrong with you? Peter?_

He could hear the consultant's voice as if from far away but it was there. Neal was with him. Peter choked back a sob, unable to think what to say. What do you say to a dead man?

_Peter... answer me. What's wrong?_

The agent closed his eyes and looked up at the strangely sepia colored figure before him. It was like watching an old movie on a projector, Neal's movements in a strange kind of slow-motion at times.

"Neal... look behind you." He didn't know what else to say, watching the figure turn slowly as if the frames of the film were staggering. He heard the gasp first then saw the figure waver ever so slightly.

_Peter... it's a trick. Tell me..._

The voice faded mid-sentence, the figure gone as Peter opened his eyes and no longer sensed Neal's presence. The nausea, chills and headache suddenly vanished.

"Neal? Neal?" He called out, pushing himself weakly to his feet as he moved back towards the lifeless figure in the corner. Why had he let him see? Why didn't he protect him? He could have lied but it wouldn't have changed anything. The young man was dead. There was too much blood on the floor around him to prove anything else.

"I'm sorry, Neal. Forgive me..."

**(TBC)**


	9. Vacuum wip

**Menagerie** - A collection of Short Stories and Drabbles in the world of White Collar. (_I don't own anything but I do like playing with the characters when I can._)

**Drabbles #9** - "_Vacuum"_

(_fan requested, whump, Neal, Peter_)

**oOoOoOo**

Neal lay slumped against the column in the Bureau parking garage, his pale blue eyes staring glassily ahead. There was a reddish yellowish glow reflected off his eyes and face as he lay there still, unmoving as if made of the very stone he leaned against.

He could hear a ringing sound in his ears, blocking out all other sounds as if he were trapped in a sealed soundproof room. He heard nothing but the ringing of what seemed to be a phone or bell reverberating in his head as he lay there unaware of what was going on. The crackling of the flames of what had been a bureau vehicle made no break in his stare. A figure pushed him aside, their face hidden by a dark mask. His eyes slowly moved to watch as they stepped over him and started to lift another figure up. The other person slumped in the masked man's grasp, a tan overcoat covering what appeared to be a grey suit. The figure looked familiar.

The masked man carried the unconscious figure in the tan overcoat as they stepped over Neal once more. Neal grasped up weakly, catching the edge of the tan overcoat in his hands, gripping tightly. The masked man turned when he felt the tug, looking down with a glare of green eyes at him. Neal stared up somewhat blankly, just seeing the blurry masked figure pulling against his grip uselessly. Neal watched as another man showed, lips moving enough for him to read.

"_What's the matter?_"

The first masked figure pointed at Neal's hand holding the corner of the tan overcoat. The second man cursed and he read his lips.

"_Bring him then! We have to go now!_"

Neal heard nothing, only able to just read what was said as they looked towards him. The second man reached down and lifted him up in a fireman's carry, the con limp as he was taken away. The continued ringing vibrated in his head making him feel nauseated as they dragged them to a nearby black van, the side door sliding open as more masked men pulled them inside, the two joining them.

"_Go! Go!_"

Neal saw rather than heard someone say that, his eyes looking at his fellow prisoner, the man in the tan coat. He was distracted by the moving figures in the silence, only the ringing in his ears breaking it. One pushed him face down on the thin carpeting, his arms pulled back and bound tightly at the elbows. He was flipped onto his back again and tape was pulled tightly over his lips. He saw the same done with the other figure in the tan coat as he tried to remember what happened.

He moved his head to look up at someone hunched over him, talking, the shadows too deep for him to comprehend over the ringing or read their lips well enough. They slapped him hard which only made him feel sicker, the ringing growing till the man seemed to grow irritated with him and he saw someone open up the door. He suddenly realized what they were going to do as he was thrown out of the still moving vehicle.

Neal hit the pavement hard, his head connecting with the asphalt before he rolled towards a parked vehicle that stopped his forward movement. His eyes started to roll back into his head, the ringing still there as the bright flash of red and blue lights filled his peripheral vision and he passed out.

**oOoOoOo**

**Author's Note:** Some of you requested a deaf Neal story. This is part of what I was thinking of writing. I sort of started it in my head but with NaNoWriMo and my current fic I haven't really pieced it all out yet. Let me know what you think.


	10. White Collar Christmas Carols

**Menagerie** - A collection of Short Stories and Drabbles in the world of White Collar.  
(_I don't own anything but I do like playing with the characters when I can._)

**Drabbles #10** - "White Collar Christmas Carols_"_  
(_Spoilers, humor and general silliness!_)

**oOoOoOo**

**(to the tune of: "Jingle Bells")  
**

*****Jingle Bells  
Keller smells  
Wilkes has got b.o.  
Neal's charming, Peter's cute  
And Mozzie's paranoid!

******Jingle Bells  
Hughes just yells  
Diana kicks some butt  
Italian roast from June who hosts  
A champagne luncheon toast!

Driving through New York  
In a Taurus that's from Ford  
Neal gets nervous  
Peter's driving worse!

Candy gets cut off  
Subi gets unlocked  
Alex helps Neal  
To get the music box...

ooooh!

_*/**(repeat top chorus)_

**()()()**

**(to the tune of: "Deck the Halls")  
**

Change the channel to White Collar  
Fa La La La La  
Fa La La La

Tis January 18th when we hollar  
Fa La La La La  
Fa La La La

Now we don our fan fic stories  
Fa La La  
Fa La La  
Fa La La

Want to see our Neal and Peter  
Fa La La La La  
Fa La La La

**()()()**

**(to the tune of: "Frosty the Snowman")  
**

Young Neal Caffrey was a jolly charming con  
With a Devor suit and two bright blue eyes  
And fedoras by the ton.

Young Neal Caffrey is a legend so they say  
He was on the run but was caught and tamed  
By Agent Peter Burke one day.

He liked to do some flips and tricks  
With fedoras he had around  
For when he had one on his head  
Peter called him such a clown!

Young Neal Caffrey has a tracking anklet now  
First it was Candy then too soon Subi  
Used to track him endlessly...

Tippity Toe Toe  
Tippity Toe Toe

Look at Neal sneak

Tippity Toe Toe  
Tippity Toe Toe

Watch all the wine he drinks!


	11. Wrong Place, Wrong Time wip

**Menagerie** - A collection of Short Stories and Drabbles in the world of White Collar. (_I don't own anything but I do like playing with the characters when I can._)

**Drabbles #11** - _Wrong Place, Wrong Time_

(_whump, friendship, hurt/comfort_)

**oOoOoOo**

He woke up to find himself handcuffed at his left wrist to the metal bar of a hospital bed. His head ached more than he could ever imagine as he tried to sit up, laying back when nausea threatened to overcome him.

The sound of a door opening to his left made him turn as he saw a doctor in white lab coat and blue green scrubs enter, clipboard in hand.

"Ah... I see you're awake. Good. How are you feeling?" The doctor sounded more cheery than he thought he should as he looked down at the handcuff and back up at the doctor.

"Confused. Why am I cuffed to this bed? Did I do something wrong? I don't... remember anything." His head continued to ache but he just bit the inside of his cheek unable to do much more. The doctor seemed to notice, walking over to a shelf and grabbing some pills. He also grabbed a small disposable cup from a nearby dispenser and filled it with water.

"Take these. They'll make your head feel better. You have a nasty bump on your temple Mr. Watkins. You're very lucky it wasn't worse." The doctor had him take the pills then started to check his vitals, eyes and reflexes.

"Everything seems ok. I've already called your friends to pick you up. The Marshall's were looking for you but I told them they had to wait till I knew you were well. They will be here shortly."

He nodded at the doctor uncertain what to think. Watkins... was that really his name? It didn't sound right but if that was his name...

"Doctor... my name. You called me Watkins... is that my first or last name? I don't remember." He blinked up at the physician who stared curiously back at him.

"Elmer Watkins. That was the name on the ID in your wallet when they brought you in. Maybe that bump was a bit harder than we thought." He seemed uncertain about something then the rattle of the cuff as he moved brought the doctor's attention back.

"I apologize for the cuff but security insisted when we saw the anklet. Now I realize you were wearing it for other reasons. We have an officer outside for your protection. Page me if you need anything."

The doctor smiled patting him on the shoulder before leaving, the cuff still in place. He sighed, looking around the room and seeing a small paperclip on the bedside table. He didn't know how he knew but he sat up and grabbed the clip, bending it in a certain shape then forcing it into the cuffs till he hear a quiet 'click' as it unlocked and he was free.

Elmer sat up, pulled the blankets aside and stood up. He saw clothes in the corner on a chair. He got up unsteadily on his feet, the room swaying a bit before he was able to get his balance and make it the 3 or so feet. He pulled off the hospital robe and started to carefully dress in what appeared to be a comfortable pair of jeans and black turtle neck. He sat down on the small sofa in the room to pull on his socks, the anklet giving him trouble. It was beat up, the little light on it off as he glanced down at it. He had the odd feeling that it should be green if anything but he didn't know why. Elmer shrugged as he managed to fit the sock through the anklet and got the other one on then pulled on a pair of nice black suede loafers that were with the clothes before he stood again with some effort and looked around for a way out.

He quietly opened the door and peered out to see the officer busy reading the paper. He closed the door again trying to figure out how to get away. He noticed the bathroom door in the corner and opened it up. Another adjoining door was inside on the opposite end. He locked his side and then exited the other to a different room. It was empty as he quietly passed through and made his way to the main door. He took in a deep breath, felt a smile on his face as he casually stepped out of the room and made his way down the hallway. The cop didn't look up or call out as he confidently made his way to the opposite end and turned the corner out of sight.

Elmer was relieved, searching his pockets for anything to help him remember when he found a wallet in the back pocket. He opened it up to find receipts, cards but nothing with a picture. There was a temporary ID card but still no picture as he looked at the name which read Elmer Watkins on all the items. He sighed, something about the name not ringing with him but it's all he had at the moment. He pushed the wallet back into his back pocket and made his way out of the hospital. It was late afternoon and he wasn't sure where he was going. His mind was a total blank as to who or what. He started to hail a passing cab when a dark sedan swerved up instead.

"We've been looking for you."

A man had rolled down the window and was looking at him curiously as he tried to figure out what was going on. He was about to step away when he saw the gun and froze, something in him telling him he didn't like guns and being still was probably the best move.

"Yes... you must be him. Boss didn't have a picture but you fit the description: Tall, dark haired with a dark shirt and jeans... anklet too. Come on, Snitch. Boss has been looking to talk to you."

Elmer started to back up when he heard the gun cock and stopped.

"Don't make me shoot an innocent person..."

He looked around to see people milling in the hospital entrance, children, mothers, fathers and the elderly. He finally nodded, the back door opening and he slipped inside another man with a gun in the interior.

"Good man. I knew you'd see things my way. Close the door!"

**()()()**

Peter was happy when they'd found Caffrey. He'd heard someone had been taken in with a gunshot wound matching his partner's description. The anklet on him had gone offline so when he heard the news he rushed from the Bureau offices and made his way to the hospital. The agent part of him was wondering what trouble Neal had gotten himself into this time but another part of him thought about the gunshot wound. Was he hurt badly? Was Neal going to survive? The doctor had only called because he was listed in the man's wallet as next of kin. Funny, why would Neal list him as next of kin? Wouldn't Mozzie fit that qualification better?

He sighed, walking into the ER and the reception to ask about his partner. The nurse there directed him to a room and doctor as he thanked her and hurried along. He didn't see a guard on the outside of the room as he entered the room number and blinked.

A man with short dark hair and blue eyes blinked back at him from the hospital bed. The man's face paled and he sat up.

"Did Arnie send you? Oh my... he's going to kill me isn't he? Please... I won't talk. That's why I ran. I decided it wasn't worth snitching. I swear! I won't tell a soul what I know. I'll... I'll give you money!"

Peter blinked at the man, reaching in to grab his badge when the guy gave a little strangled cry of fear, pulling at his IVs and trying to leave the bed. He held up his badge and opened it up showing it to the man.

"I'm a Federal Agent. My name is Peter Burke. I must have the wrong room. They told me my partner was in here with a gunshot wound." He started to think he must have the wrong room, turning to leave when the man coughed to get his attention.

"You're his friend... the man I was talking to. You're in his wallet. I traded because I wanted to get rid of my identity... You're a Federal Agent? Oh shit!"

The guy looked afraid suddenly, Peter staring at him and then it clicked. The man's arm was wrapped up where he had been shot and the man had an anklet like Neal. It all made sense now.

"What's your name? They have you listed here as my partner..."

Peter was looking at the bracelet around the man's arm and the chart on the end of the bed which both read "Neal Caffrey." The man was nothing like Neal except for hair and eye coloring.

"E... Elmer... Wat... Watkins."

**(TBC?)**


	12. Control wip

**Menagerie** - A collection of Short Stories and Drabbles in the world of White Collar. (_I don't own anything but I do like playing with the characters when I can._)

**Drabbles #12** - _Control_

(_whump, friendship, hurt/comfort_)

**oOoOoOo**

He opened his eyes slowly to find_ the lights_. They blinded him as he squinted up into their glow. Voices spoke in the background, sounds of people moving around him. He tried to sit up but found he was strapped in place unable to move.

_He's waking up. We have to hurry before he's conscious..._

Someone spoke but he couldn't see a face just a shadowy figure leaning over him with something that reflected the light. He opened his mouth to speak but found it secured with tape.

_HURRY! We have to do this now!_

One of the figures held something which they pressed over his nose and mouth. Whatever had kept his mouth closed had been removed and he was breathing in a pungent scent that reminded him of the dentist or hospitals. He was thinking he knew why Mozzie hated doctors now...

_QUICK! We have to make this happen and soon. Hurry! He's going back to sleep. We only have..._

The voices faded from his mind and he found the darkness unusually blissful.

When he opened his eyes next he was standing in the kitchen. He wasn't sure how he got there but something felt wrong.

"Peter honey? Are you ok?"

He looked around confused a moment before he felt something drip off his hands and he looked to find them covered in a thick red substance. There was a strong metallic scent in the air before he looked down to find a man laying on the floor, eyes open and staring up sightlessly.

"Peter? I'm coming down..."

He started to panic, his heart racing as he tried to think what had happened. Elizabeth couldn't see this. He didn't know what had happened. He had to clean this up!

"No... I'm coming up. I just thought I heard something. Go back to the bedroom. It's ok."

He heard the sound of her footsteps pause then retreat back up the stairs.

"Ok, Peter."

He felt a relief wash over him as he glanced back down and saw the body was gone and his hands were no longer covered in blood. Peter blinked uncertain what was going on as he glanced around the room and saw it looked the way it always did. He was confused a moment as he quickly searched to be sure everything was as it appeared before he made his way back upstairs in a kind of daze. Had he been sleep walking? He never did it before.

"Peter... what's the matter? You look like you've seen a ghost!"

El was by his side hugging him as he sat on the edge of the bed and she joined him.

"Nothing... I... nothing. Just a bad dream. Let's go back to sleep."

He was reaching for the lamp when he felt a slight pain in his head and winced. El reached over and gently turned his face towards her.

"Your tooth still hurting? Your cheek still looks a bit swollen. I thought the dentist took care of that."

She stood up again and walked to the bathroom coming back with a cup of water and a couple of pills.

"It's been long enough since the last batch. Two more won't hurt. You don't want to be out of it for that meeting today do you?"

Peter looked at the pills then his wife and shook his head as he saw her smile at him. He popped the pills and downed the water till both were gone and she brushed gently at his hair and eased him back into bed.

"I'll call the dentist and make another appointment. This should have been taken care of the first time around. Now sleep. Good-night Peter."

"She turned off his lamp and moved over to her side of the bed. He felt her moved closer and hug him as he wrapped his arms around her and let the pills start to work. The pain was starting to fade but the image of what he had seen wasn't.

Peter had been covered with blood, his hands practically dripping with it when he'd looked down to see the still figure staring up at him with glassy blue eyes. It had been Neal's blood on his hands, the young man's body laying limp and lifeless on his kitchen floor.

**(TBC)**


	13. Exchange wip

**Menagerie** - A collection of Short Stories and Drabbles in the world of White Collar. (_I don't own anything but I do like playing with the characters when I can._)

**Drabbles #13** - _Exchange_

(_kidnapping_, _whump, friendship, hurt/comfort_)

Some spoilers for current and past season.

**oOoOoOo**

Peter kissed El as she hugged him and smiled up with her blue eyes.

"See you, Hon."

He smiled back and kissed her again.

"You too, Hon."

He hugged her one last time before he went out to the car and waved, El watching from the doorway. She was working from home today and he was on his way to pick up Neal for work. They weren't working a major case but it was still a case even if it did involved the mundane subject of _Mortgage Fraud_. He laughed to himself as he started the car and pulled out into traffic. Neal had been good about working the case despite his dislike of the subject manner. He'd actually been very good lately so Peter had thought they might do something different for lunch. He was smiling as he thought about everything and how good things were when he heard it.

"Don't move, Mr. Burke. I have a gun pointed through this seat at your heart."

Peter froze, the voice not one he recognized. He tried to think who it might be as he saw the hint of face in a ski mask peeking over the back of the seat now. The man had brown eyes like him but that was all he could tell.

"Now pull the car into that alley and hand me your phone and don't make any sudden moves."

The man hissed at him, the sound of the gun cocking again as he complied. Was he getting _car jacked_ but the man knew who he was. Maybe they didn't know he carried a gun? That must be it but who wouldn't if they were gunning for him? Peter had all the possibilities brewing in his mind as he casually pulled into the alleyway, parked the car and slowly handed the phone back. The man seemed satisfied.

"I've been waiting for this moment a long time. She could have been mine if I'd moved faster but you came along. Now it's my turn."

Peter didn't understand the reference at first till he felt the pain in his upper right chest and slumped forward. The bullet had been muted some and slowed a bit by its passage through the seat but it hadn't gone clean through. He felt blood dripping down his back as he tried hard to breath and not pass out. Someone grabbed him from behind and the seat belt was released, his body falling limp against the steering wheel. His chest burned from the pain of the bullet as he tried to clear his mind and react.

"I saw her every day and I made it a point to know her habits but she never noticed me. She noticed you though. I was out that day but the news passed quickly through the small gallery."

The man sounded bitter, angry as he roughly pulled Peter to the back seat and he heard the tearing sound of tape. He felt his arms pulled back, the man securing him at his elbows and then around his knees and ankles.

"I thought I'd have a chance to ask her to be mine... you took that chance from me Burke."

Elizabeth... he was talking about... his wife!

He couldn't breath well as the man shoved him onto the floor of the backseat and climbed into the front.

"I intend to make up for all the lost time."

The man took off the ski mask and Peter could only just see the man's reflection in the rear-view mirror. The man had light brown hair, a dark blond really, with darker highlights, a roundish face with some pock marks on it. He wasn't handsome with some scars on his temple and cheek that made him look rougher than he might actually be. It was hard to tell as he saw a manic gleam in the man's eyes. If anything, this man wasn't holding a full deck but for now Peter didn't really have control of the situation.

"Wh... Whyy... now?"

Peter managed to get the words out but it hurt. He thought maybe the guy had nicked a lung but at least he hadn't shot him through the heart. He was keeping him alive for a reason.

"Why? Oh, I saw her picture in the paper. I'm not supposed to read the papers but I found one when the the orderly left it on the chair. I snuck it inside and read the local section and saw her there. She's beautiful as ever and all the fancy events she runs... I want that kind of life!"

Peter couldn't breath well as he lay pushed down on the floor. The man was driving the car now. He could just see some of the scenery outside the window but wasn't sure which direction they were headed. His vision was swimming as blood loss and pain started to overcome him. His vision was graying out.

"I want to get to know you better, Peter. Can I call you that? I want to know everything before I go and visit. I want to be her friend when she finds you're missing. I want to be the shoulder she cries on when your body is found. Eventually... I want to be _you_."

**(TBC)**


	14. Winter's Chill wip

**Menagerie** - A collection of Short Stories and Drabbles in the world of White Collar. (_I don't own anything but I do like playing with the characters when I can._)

**Drabbles #14** - _Winter's Chill (wip)  
_

(_whump, friendship, hurt/comfort_)

**oOoOoOo**

Neal wasn't sure when he got in the car or how he managed to drag Peter with him but he had. His mind was confused and muddled as he fought with unconsciousness, driving the car at breakneck speed down the icy roads in an attempt to lose the men who were behind them.

The traffic was considerably busy even with the icy weather and it helped some when he was able to evade the following vehicle long enough to get a head start. At some point he had to pull out of the busy section and head into the docks. He was desperate now or maybe the drug in his system was making it hard to think but he had made a wrong turn and ended up in a dead end facing the Hudson. Neal turned and saw no lights behind them which was some consolation. He parked the car and sat there shivering as he moved to turn the heater up a bit more and check on his partner. Peter didn't move, the agent bleeding heavily from a shoulder wound. Neal had already dressed it some but it had started to bleed through the makeshift bandage and that's why he was cold. He had given up his sweater and was down to his dress shirt and tee under a thin jacket.

How they had come to this place his memory refused to tell him as he thought about turning the car around and leaving but his body was started to go slack, eyes closing when something jarred him back to semi-wakefulness. Neal turned sluggishly to look behind as bright headlights approached dangerously fast. He moved to put the car in gear and back up but the other vehicle rammed them hard, the only thing holding him and Peter in place their seat-belts as his head hit the dash with a resounding crack and he slumped forward. He was only vaguely aware of a grinding sound and then a loud crack and squeal as the car moved forward and over something like a large speed bump.

It was sudden as he heard the splash and felt the car tilting forward but seemingly sinking, a strange sense of weightlessness as his ears popped a bit and he heard the gurgling of something like water. Neal opened his eyes again and looked to see the car was already mostly submerged under the icy waters of the Hudson as he fought to move his body and react but was too tired and out of it to do more than slump forward again, eyes closing as he passed out.

**oOoOoOo**

**Author's Note:** _This just sort of popped into my head. Not sure what the scene comes from but I could possibly write around it. Not sure if it's the beginning scene or a later one. Haven't decided yet. Just thought I'd document it for a possible future story._


	15. No Rest for the Weary wip1shot

**Menagerie** - A collection of Short Stories and Drabbles in the world of White Collar. (_I don't own anything but I do like playing with the characters when I can._)

**Drabbles #15** – _No Rest for the Weary (wip / 1 Shot)_

(_whump, angst, humor_)

**oOoOoOo**

It had been too long since Neal had had a real day off from working with Peter. Not that he didn't like working with the agent or the FBI for that matter. There were advantages he liked but he was feeling a bit worn from the past few assignments. Being undercover could be fun but the last two assignments had nearly cost him his life and Peter had more than cussed out a few agents, including Ruiz for not helping the matter. Neal was appreciative that Peter protected him but he needed his space to think about things; Get down to what he wanted to do, think about and in general apply his mind on. He had been reconciling himself with everything that had happened up till now including Kate's death and Mozzie's near murder. It made him reconsider a few options and think about what he might do once he was free.

The young man sat on the terrace thinking as he sipped coffee from a little cup and smiled slightly. It was Friday and he had the whole weekend to himself. Mozzie had promised to come by later to discuss a few things but for now, Neal was alone and he had the morning to himself for once. He finished the small but scrumptious breakfast of eggs Benedict and fruit June's housekeeper had brought up and cleaned up the table before he checked himself in the mirror and left the apartment. He took the steps two at a time down noting that June wasn't there to greet him. He'd been surprised the housekeeper had brought breakfast today but Maggie had told him June left early to visit with her granddaughter. He felt a small pang of loneliness but swept it aside as he headed outside and into the crisp late Winter air of New York. The city smelled nice for once, a soft scent of rolls from a nearby bakery making his mouth water. He moved across the street and bought one with a small cup of hot chocolate as he walked down the sidewalk towards the park.

There was very little snow on the ground or ice but it was still very cold. Neal felt the chilly breeze whip at his hair as he pulled his hat protectively over his face and his jacket collar up a bit higher. He watched people walking past to work or elsewhere and tried to imagine why or where when someone bumped into him which made him drop his hot chocolate to the ground as they paused.

"I'm sorry."

It was a young woman, a very pretty girl with bright brown eyes beneath long golden brown lashes. She had her hair pulled back in a tight bun as she tried to apologize to him for the drink.

"It's ok. Just be careful next time."

He smiled at her charmingly as he picked up the cup and tossed it into the trash and she hurriedly ran off after apologizing yet again. She seemed nervous but he shrugged it off as he moved on towards the park. It was his day off and he was going to enjoy it.

**()()()**

He roamed the park for a good hour, taking in a few nature trails, getting a hot dog and a coffee before sitting down to enjoy them. He was looking for a bench to sit down when someone bumped into him but this time he managed to save his drink and his food. It was the same young woman from before, an odd coincidence he thought.

"I'm sorry. Oh it's you."

She seemed to remember him and he nodded, feeling a bit confused at the chances they'd bump into one another again. New York wasn't exactly a small city. He noticed she turned back behind her and that nervousness was still there. Neal glanced the same way and thought he saw some mean looking guys looking her way or at least pretending not to with Neal there. She started to walk off when he gently grasped her arm.

"Are you ok?"

She just stared at him a moment as if uncertain what to say as she nodded her head, obviously a lie as she pulled from his grasp and walked quickly away. Neal watched her curiously, more so when the two scary looking guys moved on after her. He sighed as he looked at his hot dog and coffee, scarfing them down quickly as he made a quick run across a large grassy knoll towards a point where he might catch her before they did. The young woman was passing by the small copse of bushes he chose when he reached out and grabbed her quickly, his gloved hand covering her mouth but turning her so she saw it was him. She nodded as the two scary guys stopped and looked around but didn't see them. Neal noticed one had a phone and pulled it out and texted someone quickly before they both split up and he heard them say something about finding the woman and soon.

They hid a while longer till she pulled away and Neal let go of her. She stared at him and seemed uncertain what to think as she gazed into his eyes.

"Thank you..."

He flashed his most charming smile and bowed slightly.

"Neal... Miss..."

He left it open and she seemed uncertain a moment holding out her hand.

"Lydia. I guess first names are ok. Thank you, Neal. I have to go now but thanks."

She started to leave but he grasped her arm gently making her turn and stare at him questioningly.

"Why are those men looking for you, Lydia?"

She pulled her arm free and took a few steps backwards, her manner guarded again.

"You don't want to get involved Neal, but thank you for the help."

She gave him a soft smile back before slipping out onto the main path again. He slipped out and watched, curious why the men were chasing her as he mentally kicked himself for getting involved with this kind of thing on his day off and followed her.

Neal lost her after about thirty minutes, uncertain which way she went when he realized he was going to be late to meet up with Mozzie at June's. He had enough excitement in his life without adding to it with a mystery girl and men chasing her. He was close to the edge of his radius as it was (_a good enough excuse_) so he went back the way he'd come from when someone bumped him hard.

"Excuse me..."

He nodded and started to pass when someone grabbed his arm and pulled him aside into a doorway out of sight. Neal was about to protest when someone hit him hard across the jaw and his head was pushed back till he heard a slight crack of bone against the wall.

"I don't know who you are buddy but it's best you leave this alone. Kapish?"

Neal could barely nod to them as he saw stars and he felt a slight slap of his face and laughter.

"Good... now, what did Lydia tell you and you can go on your way."

He started to come to from the manhandling when he blinked up at the two innocently. For once he didn't know anything, the woman never having said a thing to him other than _thanks_. He just stared up at them with his most innocent look, which for once was honestly devoid of any knowledge, and shrugged.

"She never said anything. We just bumped into one another."

Both goons looked between each other, obviously not believing him. They whispered not so quietly to the other.

"_Think he should have a visit with the boss? Might loosen his tongue..._"

Neal felt a chill wash over him as he wondered who their boss was and how to escape meeting him. He was truly regretting getting involved with this _Lydia_ woman now as he struggled against the man holding him.

"_Sounds like a plan._"

One of them pulled out a gun, holding it out of sight but obvious to Neal who's right arm was twisted back hard behind him while he felt the gun pushed against his spine.

"_Don't do anything stupid!_"

Neal nodded, head and neck hurting as he was forced down the sidewalk and to a black sedan. The other man opened up the back door and they shoved him inside, more goons within.

"Who's this? I thought we were supposed to pick up Lydia."

The driver looked confused as the other man inside held a gun on Neal and another cuffed his wrists behind him.

"Don't know. She bumped into him twice so he must be someone. He won't talk either."

Neal swallowed hard wondering if he could talk his way out of this but saw a look from the goon with the gun telling him to stay quiet so he did. He was too dizzy still from the hit to the jaw and head to really think straight anyhow.

"Well, boss won't be happy with this but if you think he knows something I'll back you."

The man who'd clocked him nodded, pulling something out of his pocket as the other man in the back seat held him. A rag was pressed to Neal's face as he struggled to free himself, a sickly sweet smell filling his nostrils.

"I hope Lydia's worth this, buddy."

Neal felt himself starting to succumb to the chloroform as his eyes rolled back into his skull and he passed out.

**()()()**

Neal had a nightmare about big guys with guns chasing him and then tackling him to the ground and beating the crap out of him. He thrashed as much as he could in his sleep til someone slapped at his face and he started to come to.

His first impression of consciousness wasn't what he expected. The room was brightly lit by a lamp of some kind directly shining in his face. He squinted against it, trying to turn his head but someone behind him held his head firmly so that the light continued to blind him. He tried to move his arms up to cover his face but found them bound behind him with some kind of heavy cord as were his legs to a chair. There were rags stuffed in his mouth and tape over his lips as the young man tried to figure out where he was and if was actually awake from that nightmare.

"Look! Sleeping Beauty wakes up finally. I think you gave him a bit too much of that chloroform, Bobby. Pretty boy here looks a bit confused. Shall we remind him why he's here?"

Neal only just recognized the voice as the man who had socked him and then asked him about someone. Who was it they had been questioning him about. His head was fuzzy when another semi-familiar voice piped in.

"Yes. I believe you know Lydia. Too bad you don't have ID on you or I would have made sure your love ones received an ear as proof of your death."

Neal struggled against his bindings but someone cuffed him hard across the side of the head, stunning him. He continued to squint against the light as the men spoke to him. Someone not so gently yanked the tape off his lips and he coughed up the rags after a moment.

"So... we know you were talking to Lydia and helped her evade us. What did she tell you and was it about the item in question?"

He blinked up at them through slitted eyes as he tried to think straight. His temples were thumping from the drugs and earlier hit across the jaw but this current smack across the head hadn't helped him any. He gave a cough to clear his throat which felt dry from the rags.

"We just bumped... into each other. Nothing more."

Neal kept it simple, hoping for some mercy but was certain these big guys didn't know the meaning of the word. He heard someone laugh, everyone chuckling a moment before they went silent and a new voice spoke.

"I wouldn't protect her if I were you. She's not worth it and she'll only betray your trust as she betrayed mine."

A man moved closer, out of view of the light as his head blocked it and Neal got a good look at the new speaker.

The man was tall, good looking and blond. His hair was cut short and somewhat spiky. He had light green eyes, his expression dark with a cold gleam in his eyes and a smirk on his lips as he grasped Neal's chin tightly in his thin fingers and made the con look at him.

"You look like a smart guy to me. I don't see how you'd be swayed by a pretty face but I could be wrong. She did it to me too."

The man was practically nose to nose with him now, his chin firmly held so he couldn't move with the man holding his head behind him.

"Let's make this simple. I'm willing to cut you in if you tell me what she offered you. I'm willing to be fair long as I still get the product. What do you say?"

Neal had no idea what was going on but he wasn't willing to lose his life over a stranger he barely knew. He nodded his head, the blond man patting his cheek gently, an expectant look on his face as the con tried to figure out what the man was talking about and fake him out.

"She offered me 4..."

He hoped he was being vague enough when the man's eyes popped open and he let go of his chin, pacing back and forth, the light blinding him once again.

"Stupid witch! She's going to pay for her backstabbing ways if it's the last thing I do."

He saw the blond man make a motion towards him, a not so quiet whisper just audible.

"_Cut him loose, drug him and toss him into the Hudson. If she's going to do this to me, I don't need to be making deals. Just find her!_"

Neal tried to act like he hadn't heard anything, feeling his bonds cut loose and several strong hands holding him as he was led semi-blind from the darkened room with the bright light into a dimly lit hallway. Someone opened a door and he found himself staring at the evening sun just dropping behind the skyline of New York. How long had he been here that it was almost nighttime?

"Boss says we're going to let you go. We'll give you a lift, ok?"

Neal didn't have much of a choice as he tried to think of a plan. He didn't have much so he just did what he could, his body suddenly going limp in their arms, head slumping to one side heavily. The goons seemed confused, one of them slapping him across the face in a not so gentle manner but he didn't move, feeling their hands loosening on him ever so slightly.

"He fainted! Son of a... Well, doesn't matter does it? He's going to swimming with some fishes pretty soon. Larry, watch him while I get some rope and a sack."

All but one hand left him and even after a moment he felt those hands loosen up and heard someone pacing nearby, the sound of a lighter and aroma of a cigarette reaching his nose as he opened up one eye and looked around. Larry seemed to be off about 15 or so feet away, face lit up dimly by the cigarette and not paying any attention to him in the least. Neal had expected that as he quietly slipped out of his shoes and ran quietly around the vehicle and off towards a large pile of palettes and wood. He slipped his shoes back on once he was out of earshot, starting to run in earnest towards the city lights but finding the river between him and total freedom.

"He can't have gotten far!"

He heard voices catching up as he turned back, grabbed up one of the smaller wooden palettes and dropped it into the water. If he had to row across he'd do it but he wasn't going to get caught by these guys again. Neal lay on the palette and started to row with his arms when he realized this was just ludicrous. He slipped into the water and started to swim in earnest to the other side. It was a good half a mile he thought but it was better than being murdered and dumped here without his permission. It was going to take a good dry cleaner to get the smell of the river out of his suit but it was worth it if he lived.

When he reached the other side he crawled up onto the shoreline and collapsed. He was a pretty strong swimmer but this was farther than he'd had to swim outside a pool in a long time, not to mention the reek of the water, the cold temps and his weariness from being drugged and mistreated. He just wanted to sleep there, nobody to bug him... when he heard the sound of a boat motor and opened his eyes again to see a dark form out in the water and someone flashing a light looking for him.

_Crap!_ They'd noticed the palette as he tiredly dragged himself to his feet and up the embankment. He made it to the top and found a fence surrounding the area he was in. Another pitfall but he was too tired to care as he searched for a good spot, took off his suite jacket and threw it up onto the barbed wire on top and gingerly climbed over. He left the jacket behind too tired to jump up and grab it as he made a break across the silent dirt road towards the city lights. He was just making a slow lope up onto what appeared to be a real road when he heard flashing lights, red and blue to be exact and someone spoke through a megaphone.

"Put your hands on your head!"

Great... now he was going to get arrested? He was tired and achy enough he wasn't sure he cared as he did as he was told, the crunching of steps on the road telling him they were coming closer as hands grabbed him and he was cuffed.

"Neal Caffrey. Your keeper will be happy to know you aren't as reformed as he thought. Take him away."

Neal saw the snide smile on the Marshall's face, recognizing the man from a previous case. He glared back at the man without expressing how tired he was. It wouldn't help his case with the man already had a prejudice against him. He sighed, knowing Peter was going to be furious when everyone started to duck and cover. There were gun shots from near by and Neal felt himself duck along with them.

"What the hell is going on? Someone figure it out... You, keep an eye on him!"

The Marshall nodded to a rookie looking guy who nodded as the rest of them went to see what the shooting was all about. Neal just wanted to hide in the car but knew he'd rather be off on his own then here with whatever was going on. This day was not ending well as he quickly unlocked his cuffs and acted coy till the rookie was distracted by the radio.

"Yes... there are gunshots. Erickson and the others went to check it out. No I'm here watching someone. Yes..."

Neal quietly slipped back away from the marshalls towards the back of the car and then out of sight as he quickly ran into the brush and made his way back out onto the road again. He reached into his pocket in hopes of calling Peter before the news got back to him but cursed when he found his cell gone. Those goons must have taken it when he was unconscious. He sighed as he ran in the growing gloom towards freedom. Finally when he thought it was safe, he attempted to hail a ride back to town. Neal could only hope he didn't look as badly as he felt as he put on his most charming smile. It took a few minutes but someone finally stopped as he walked up and leaned on the open passenger side window. The car was dark inside but he could just make out the driver was a woman.

"Hi, thanks for stopping. Are you headed back into the city?"

He saw the person nod in the darkness as he heard the door unlocked and slipped inside. He felt badly as he saw his face in the rear-view mirror and sighed. He looked a fright from his usual self and he was damp and dirty to boot, his suit ruined.

"I really appre... ciate this."

His voice cracked as he realized the driver had a gun on him and the overhead light went on. It was Lydia.

"You must not be as innocent as I thought if you escaped from Gregory and his goons. Where's your jacket?"

She was waiting for an answer as he shivered from his swim in the cold water and cold air despite the heater on in the car.

"Jacket? They took my coat and I had to leave my suit jacket on the barbed wire. Why?"

He saw her face pale and suddenly she cocked the gun.

"I never should have involved a civilian in this... Dammit! Gregory will find the item in your jacket and get the money for himself. I should kill you now but it wouldn't do me any good."

She pressed the gun a bit closer as she unlocked the doors. Her voice was pure venom.

"Get out before I shoot you."

He no longer thought she was pretty, anything that had been beautiful about her eaten up by the ugliness he saw in her now. He nodded, opening the door and slipping out tiredly onto the shoulder. He barely closed the door before she squealed off quickly, the smell of burnt rubber and exhaust making him cough as he realized he was going to have to hoof it back.

Several cars passed by, a few honking at him or slowing down but he waved them off preferring to walk than to take a chance another crazy person would pick him up. He just wanted to get back to June's and crawl under the covers or into a hot shower. Either would do at this point.

It was three hours later he made it back, a vegetable salesman offering him a ride in the back of his rig. Neal was too tired by then to complain and it was already past sunset. He just wanted to sleep, the rocking of the small cart and the smell of fresh vegetables lulling him to sleep. He heard a honk not too longer after, the driver letting him off at a deli near June's. He didn't want her address compromised as he walked the last block to her home and dragged himself inside. Nobody was home which was probably for the best as he limped up the stairs. He didn't even care his nice shoes were ruined and making a soft squishing sound as he made his way up to his room. He unlocked the door and found everything the way he'd left it as he closed the door, locked it and slipped into the bathroom. Neal quickly disrobed, his clothes reeking of the East River among other things as he ducked into the shower and turned on the water as hot as he could stand it.

Twenty minutes later he turned off the water and exited feeling cleaner although the stench of the river still filled the bathroom from his clothes. He placed them in the shower and let them soak in a small basin of water as he wrapped himself up in a towel and gave a look at his face in the mirror. He looked beat up and tired, bags under his eyes and a few light bruises. Neal sighed as he dried his hair and styled it as best he could before exiting out to his room again and digging around for a comfortable pair of cotton pajama pants and a tee. He heard a knock on the door just as he finished dressing, tempted to act like he wasn't home but the knocking continued. He sighed, walking over to the door and opening it up.

"I don't appreciate it when people miss their appointments..."

Mozzie stood there, his face set in a minor scowl as he waited as if expecting something. Neal nodded tiredly as he moved aside but really didn't feel in the mood for visitors, even Mozzie. After the day he had all he wanted was to curl up under the covers and pass out. Mozzie didn't seem to notice his exhaustion as he moved over to the kitchenette and started to uncork a bottle of wine. Neal was in no mood to chide him as he moved back into the bathroom briefly to pull his clothes from the basin in the shower and wring them out a bit as he walked out into to the terrace and hung them out on a small line. Mozzie was watching him with interest as he sipped a glass of something red and handed him another glass. Neal took it once he had finished his task.

"So why are you hanging your suit to dry and why is it so dirty? Is that mud on your shirt? What did the Suit have you do for him today?"

Neal didn't even want to go there as he made to open his mouth to explain but heard another knock at his door. He held up a hand as he hobbled a bit over to the door, his feet and legs still hurting from his long walk among other things and opened up the door. Peter stood there, his face a bit red and looking somewhat angry he thought. Great... he'd forgotten about his incident with the Marshalls in his attempt to relax but now that he was here...

"Come in Peter... might as well start this party off right."

He knew the agent was angry at him, looking down finally as he noticed the blinking light on his anklet. He hadn't had a chance to think about it with the walk back and the surprise visit with Lydia. He just wanted to end the day's events and get back to his weekend.

Peter just stared at him, closing the door and starting to talk when he saw Mozzie and paused.

"Can we discuss this alone, Neal? I really don't have the patience for this right now. Elizabeth and I were in the middle of dinner with some friends when the Marshall's called me and said you escaped after they caught you. Can you explain that to me?"

Neal felt a bit guilty at the fact they had been at dinner but with the day he'd had it was only a little bit.

"No... I skipped out on Mozzie and he deserves to know why. Did the Marshall's tell you what was going on while I was allegedly escaping?"

Neal hobbled, without trying to make it obvious, over to the sofa and sat, the wine glass Mozzie had offered him still in his hands. Peter blinked, staring at him a moment as he fumbled with words.

"No, which is why I came. They made it sound like you had committed a big crime. Apparently they caught Gregori Michev and his gang after your disappearing act."

Neal nodded remembering that Lydia had mentioned someone named Gregory. Made sense.

"Yes... Gregory and his men. Made me feel right at home with bright lights, the third degree and guns."

Peter's mouth opened to say something but he paused and looked at him curiously.

"Did you say guns? Neal..."

The agent was looking at something now, moving closer to Neal and grasping his chin gently in his hand. Neal winced a bit at the touch having been hit once and slapped numerous other times. His face was a bit tender particularly around the chin.

"Where did you get these bruises?"

The agent was still there but Peter his friend was now asking him if he was hurt. He pulled his head out of his friend's hand and took a sip of his wine as he put his feet up on the table and winced a bit more. The soles of his feet ached from the long walk if not his legs from swimming across the East River.

"What does it matter. I was out of my radius and nothing I'll say will cancel that out. I just want to hear my punishment so I can go lie down and sleep this off."

Neal didn't care anymore as he leaned back and closed his eyes tiredly. He opened them when he felt someone sit beside him and saw Peter there.

"Neal, tell me what happened. The Marshall who called is not one I like mostly why I was pissed. I didn't think you had done anything and now that I see you up close I realize something else is going on here. Talk to me."

The young man could see his friend was honestly concerned, Mozzie having moved closer and was now sitting across from them. The audience aspect bothered him as he just wanted to crawl into bed and sleep. He was exhausted after all that had happened and he wanted to forget about the day and start again with tomorrow.

"I don't even know what happened. I don't think anyone would believe me if I told them, least of all you guys."

Mozzie sipped at his wine, shaking his head.

"Anything dealing with Gregori Michev has to be good. Just don't leave out any of the juicy details Neal."

Neal sighed, putting down his glass and trying to get comfortable despite all his aches and pains. He still had a bit of a headache from the chloroform which made him feel worse but he should just get it out while it was fresh.

"I'll start from the beginning..."

Neal told them how he had been minding his own business and the woman had bumped him spilling his hot chocolate followed by bumping into her again in the park with the men following her. Then he'd help her hide and they'd grabbed him and taken him to somewhere on the other side of the East River. He'd escaped by pretending to faint, swimming across the river, ruining a perfectly good suit climbing the embankment, throwing his jacket over the barbed wire fence (which he left to his regret now) and finally getting caught by the Marshalls and then again by the young woman in question at gun point and left to walk home till the man with the vegetable truck gave him a lift.

He saw his friends looking at him. Mozzie seemed incredulous, rubbing at his chin as he sipped at his wine again while Peter just blinked and seemed to be trying to connect the dots with what he knew of Neal's rep and what the Marshall had told him. He knew they were both thinking he was full of it but at this rate he didn't care.

"Ok, story time is over. I hate to be a bad host but with the day I've had I'll talk to you both tomorrow if not Monday. I'm not leaving my apartment after today unless I have to."

Peter and Mozzie gave each other a look before both stood and the agent patted his friend on the shoulder gently. Neal winced slightly, his arms aching still from the swimming he did.

"We'll talk... I need to get back to that dinner. I left El alone."

Peter didn't seem angry but he did look confused as he left the apartment. Mozzie stood and walked over, leaving his glass on the sink before doing so.

"I guess this means we aren't playing chess tonight?"

Neal shook his head with a slight smile but he was too tired to do more.

"You'll have to tell me about Michev. I hear he's bloodthirsty."

Neal nodded as the little guy left and he closed the door alone at last. He locked it as he turned all the lights off and made his way to his bed. It was painful but he curled up under the blankets as he turned off the last light and passed out.

**oOoOoOo**

**Author's Note****:** _Ok, this was in response to someone saying I don't write enough Neal anymore. I just started to like writing a well rounded episode sort of speak. I like to see if I can get everyone involved even if I do really only like Neal. I've never been that flexible with a show before but I like all the characters on WC so it's fairly easy to do everyone in one story if I have the gumption to do it. So anyhow, a little more Nealcentric story. Still playing with what happens or if this is it._


	16. Under the Radar What If

**Menagerie** - A collection of Short Stories and Drabbles in the world of White Collar. (_I don't own anything but I do like playing with the characters when I can._)

**Drabbles #15** - _What if - "Under the Radar"_

(_SPOILERS FOR FINALE!, AU_, _whump, friendship, hurt/comfort_)

**oOoOoOo**

Peter jumped when the explosion happened, turning to see the huge plume of black smoke just off the horizon nearby. He looked at Diana, Jones and the other agents and immediately had a horrible thought.

"Where's Neal?"

They started to head in that direction, trying to figure out where their other agents were when Peter rounded the corner and heard voices. He stayed out of sight, moving closer before he heard Adler's voice for certain.

"YOU did this!"

And then the slight shake and tremor of a familiar voice as he started to move in.

"I would never destroy such priceless artifacts. You know that!"

Peter was about to pop out when he heard it, a horrible sound that made his blood curl as he stepped out and both figures came into sight.

His first image was of a figure falling to the ground clutching at their chest as another stood there with a gun held out. Peter didn't know what happened as he pulled his gun out and immediately cocked it. He saw the figure standing turn quickly, gun still at the ready but they had little opportunity to use it. Peter was fast as he pulled the trigger and Adler's face paled, the man collapsing to the ground. There was a strange smile on the man's face as he slumped and went still. Peter took no time in moving past Adler's dead body, kicking the gun from his hand and kneeling beside another figure laying in a pool of red that was slowly soaking the ground. He turned at the sound of footsteps behind him, gun ready and saw it was Diana and Jones. The agent relaxed some, returning his gun to his holster as he turned his attention back to Neal and the growing stain on the front of the young man's shirt.

"Neal? Neal talk to me... Please!"

He was pressing his hands on the wound, trying his best to stop the bleeding but it didn't seem to be helping as he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and turned to see Diana there. Jones was on the phone calling paramedics as Peter tried his best not to panic. His mind was already at odds with having shot Adler dead but to lose Neal too? He was shaking and had to stop himself as he tried to keep the con with him, flaming debris falling around them at regular intervals. Diana removed her jacket and pushed it under Neal's head as Peter continued to hold the young man and keep the wound covered. He thought he heard sirens in the distance as he turned to look. A small bit of debris, fabric it seemed or canvas maybe fell lazily beside them as his eyes moved to look at it.

_Peter: Is that the original?  
_

_Neal: No, just practicing my technique._

_Peter: Painting it for your girlfriend?_

_Neal: What are you nine? No, I do it when I feel stress._

_Peter: Then you must paint a lot._

_Neal: I have a whole storage room full..._

Peter picked up the piece with his free hand and looked at the small remnant of the piece he remembered Neal painting. He thought back to what he heard Adler say and his lips turned to a deep frown. He wasn't sure if he was angry or not as he looked down at the dying man in his arms.

"_Neal... what have you done?_"

**oOoOoOo**

**Author's Note:**_ I don't know why but I had this idea floating in my head. What if Neal had the confrontation with Adler at the end, he was shot before Peter and crew came to rescue him, Peter shoots Adler dead AAAAND... he finds that little bit of painting that damns Neal and makes him look guilty._


	17. Under the Radar What If Version 2

**Menagerie** - A collection of Short Stories and Drabbles in the world of White Collar. (_I don't own anything but I do like playing with the characters when I can._)

**Drabbles #17** - _What if - "Under the Radar" part 2_

(SPOILERS FOR FINALE! AU, _whump, friendship, hurt/comfort_)

**oOoOoOo**

Peter called out to his partner exiting the Conservatory Gardens when his cell started to buzz. He saw the number and answered.

"Who is this?"

"_Peter, get into the car._"

Peter glanced across the sidewalk to see a man step out of a large limo and open the back door. Neal sat inside, the con shaking his head ever so slightly. The agent tried to decide what to do when he suddenly took a step backwards and someone shot at him. He ducked inside the gardens behind a tree and soon the gun fire ended as he heard the limo take off with a squeal. He ran out to shoot back but paused as he took down the plates and immediately called for backup.

"Jones, I need you and Diana to check traffic cams and get a fix on the following plate. They took Neal. Let the Marshall's know and track his anklet."

He was pissed if anything. Peter felt he should have gone along with the con but Neal had given him a slight indication he shouldn't and he had gone with it. Now he regretted the decision knowing it had been Adler on the other end.

**()()()**

Neal had been in the gardens about to meet up in the middle with Peter when someone came up behind and pressed a gun to his spine.

"Someone wants to see you."

He had little choice as he heard the gun cocked and pressed harder into his back as he nodded and they walked back the way he came, avoiding Peter and exiting the Conservatory Gardens. There was a large black limo parked there now, the back door opening up as the man with the gun pressed him forward and Neal slid inside. There was another man inside the backseat with a pistol, a voice speaking from the front that sounded all to familiar as he was asked to hand his cell over and the panel slid down. Vincent Adler... The man looked the same if not a bit older, his expression a cold smile as he took the cell phone and dialed a number.

"I think your agent friend might want to join us. I hadn't expected to have three guests but one more shouldn't spoil the party."

Neal listened to Adler talk to Peter, glancing out the tinted windows to see Peter on his cell only a few yards away. He didn't want to see his friend involved as the door opened from the outside and he gazed out into the bright sunshine. Peter blinked back at him in surprise, Neal shaking his head a little to keep him away. The agent listened, backing off after a moment but the driver started shooting. They must need Peter for something or they wouldn't try and bring him into this. Neal made a grab for the shooter but heard the cock of the gun from behind him and stopped.

"Tsk tsk... don't be so hasty Neal. We'll figure this out. Driver... go!"

Adler's voice was cold but bemused, the man with the gun pulling out a very large pair of shears.

"Just in case we didn't get the stoic agent to take it off with the key. Cutting is just as good."

Neal took the shears and lifted his leg enough to reach down to cut the anklet off but not before he made a quick SOS with the ends and handed it to the gun man. Adler smiled darkly his eyes looking at the gun man who poured something into a glass with his free hand.

"Decisions... In that glass is a combination of chloral hydrate, ethanol and ice tea. It'll put you out long enough so you don't know where we're going."

Adler's tone was smug as he spoke making Neal feel a bit more defiant than he felt.

"Or..."

The gun man cocked his gun again, moving closer, glass still held out.

"Or you can go another route and never see Alex again. I'll figure out what to do with her..."

Neal felt a chill wash over him but also anger at the threat to his friend from his former boss and mentor. The man new his weakness and yet... He couldn't let this man win as he took the glass and took a long pull, finishing it. The stuff was bitter if anything and strong. There was nothing sweet about it, a fuzzy feeling coming over him already as he blinked his eyes. Adler's voice seemed to change, echoing a bit.

"Good man. You were always loyal to a fault, Neal. Alex waits for you when you wake up, as do all the answers to all of your questions."

Neal glared at the man but found himself less in control as his head slumped back against the seat loosely and he soon found himself looking up at the smiling face of Adler.

"_Make sure he's out before we head for the warehouse. I don't want anything to complicate matters."_

**()()()**

Peter headed back to the Bureau, anger brewing in him over Adler and Neal's kidnapping. He heard his phone buzz and pushed the button on his dash to answer.

"Burke..."

"_This is the Marshall's office. Tracker 9305 Alpha just went offline without permission. Would you like assistance with this pursuit?_"

Neal's anklet had been cut by Adler? They wanted to remain anonymous it seemed as he told them to be on the alert but that Neal was kidnapped and not to be hurt. He got off the phone with the Marshalls only to answer his phone again through the comm.

"_It's Jones... Neal's anklet went offline, Peter._"

Peter nodded as he drove, parking his car.

"I know. Marshalls already called me. Adler's car peeled out before I could follow but I want that traffic cam info from around the Conservatory Gardens and the blocks surrounding it. Adler can't have hid that limo from everyone."

He locked up the car and practically ran to the elevator, pushing the 21st floor and waiting impatiently to arrive at their offices. He was out in a moment, pushing open the glass doors and waving at both Diana and Jones to join him upstairs at his office as he quickly moved past. He removed his jacket and hung it over his chair as he turned at the sound of both agents coming up.

"Sit down. We have a lot to discuss and little time."

**()()()**

Neal woke up to a blurry figure looking at him. He wasn't sure where he was or what was going on till his vision started to clear and he saw Alex crouched there before him.

"I was looking for you."

She smiled back, gently caressing his cheek before giving him a hard slap to the face. He jerked awake as he rubbed at his cheek and she smiled somewhat wryly.

"Awake now?"

He nodded as she helped him up and they hugged a moment.

"Adler got you too? Any chance this is a plan of your FBI friend? You get drugged and kidnapped and he comes to the rescue by tracking your..."

She noticed the anklet off and he shrugged helplessly as she scowled slightly.

"Peter saw me taken but they made me cut off the anklet before I was drugged and brought here. We're alone."

She nodded as she moved a bit closer, he thought maybe to kiss him when the door was flung open in the corner and Adler and his men came in interrupting their reunion. The men had guns, Neal pushing Alex behind him as they moved away from their kidnappers. Adler smiled somewhat brightly.

"Why did you bring us here, Vincent?"

"Why don't I just show you?"

Adler continued to smile as he pushed a key into a box near some panels on the wall and they opened up revealing windows and something unusual outside. Neal and Alex awed as they saw the U-Boat sitting in the warehouse.

**()()()**

A while later Neal stood atop the U-Boat, Adler safely away with Alex as collateral. He had to safe crack the entrance to the sub alone. He managed to see something like a typewriter inside the hatch, opening up the bolts with some effort and then by some miracle Alex helped to turn off the timer. He entered the sub alone, careful of the ancient stacks of TNT around the vessel till he found a room and slowly made his way in the dim light of his flashlight.

Boxes upon boxes stood there and as he popped one open he awed at the sight. He turned off the mic and headset he'd been given at one point, glancing around the room till he found something else he'd been looking for. Not too long after that, Adler joined him with his gunmen and Alex in tow. The man looked rabidly at the treasure trove around him.

"Now let's get back to the limo..."

Alex looked at Neal desperately, struggling against the man holding her.

"I won't get back in that car! You'll have to shoot us!"

Neal's eyes widened at her comment as he made to speak but Adler smiled, shrugging some.

"Fine, shoot them. Just find a way to get them out... somehow..."

Neal moved forward to free Alex as the man held a gun to her head. He struggled with the man as she pulled away but the gun went off and Neal collapsed to the floor in a heap. She was crying, hitting the man with her hands as Adler turned and sighed.

"Just bring them along. We'll take them regardless of her hysterics."

Neal fought to help Alex but his wound made it hard to breath as he passed out from the pain and blood loss.

**()()()**

Meanwhile, Peter looked up from his desktop when his cell rang. Jones was in the corner finishing up the traffic cam info as Diana walked out long enough to grab them some coffee and some files on Adler.

"Burke... Sara? Slow down... what? I know he's missing. Neal was kidnapped. Yes... Not a problem. We'll be right there to pick yo... both of you up."

He hung up the cell feeling a bit less apprehensive.

"Jones, we're heading out. Go get some of our agents. I think we found Neal and Alex if not Adler. I'll tell Diana."

Peter called El to let him know he was out on a case and might be late. Once she wished him luck in finding Neal, he called Hughes who was out at a meeting. They would have a warrant if necessary by the end of the day. He thanked his boss and they went to pick up Sara and Mozz.

Mozzie was his usual odd self as they picked them up in the municipal van. They got him in the back with some resistance and he whined and moaned most of the way till Sara promised she'd keep Diana from killing him he'd shut up. The little guy nodded but as they were all getting ready to strangle him he got a signal on the antenna. They followed it as best they could through late afternoon traffic.

**()()()**

Neal woke up to find himself bound most uncomfortably with zip ties and a cinder block attached to his ankles. He looked around to find Alex unconscious beside him. He tried to move and nudge her but his chest burned where the bullet had gone through. Neal had tried to keep Alex safe and the gunman had shot him instead in the struggle. His shirt was soaked through as he lay there, his vision blurring in and out he knew not from being drugged but from the blood loss. Still he got an inkling where they were and saw men, Adler's men moving up the stairs to the top of the dry dock where they started to turn the water on. He would have laughed at the ludicrous nature of this torture but with him being shot and Alex unconscious they hadn't a chance to escape once this place filled with water. He pulled a bit on his bindings and cried out as he pulled on his chest wound, falling back to the pavement.

Water started to pool around them shallowly as he saw Alex slowly start to waken. It was too late. No way for them to escape at this point as he felt conscious start to leave him.

"Neal? Neal wake up! I have a knife... wake up!"

She rolled over and nudged him but he didn't move as she finally bit him on the lip hard enough he winced.

"Stay with me... I need you to get this knife. Can you do that?"

He nodded with as much strength as he could, Alex rolling closer so he could pull the knife with his teeth from her bra. She rolled over and took it in her hands the water now a few inches if not a foot deep. It took a moment but she cut him loose first and then with some effort, Neal cut her arms loose before his last bits of strength left him and he slumped there against the pillar. The water was 3 feet now as Alex finished cutting the ties around her ankles and started on Neal's. She nudged him but he had little strength left as she practically pulled him to his feet.

"Neal! Stay with me... Please!"

Her voice was panicked as he tried to help her carry him along as they waded towards the stairs and started up. Adler's men were there as they ducked back down out of range. Neal looked up with blurring vision as someone stood over them from above, gun cocked loudly as he waited for the kill shot.

"_**FBI! PUT DOWN YOUR WEAPONS!**_"

Neal heard Peter's voice call out, a smile forming on his lips as he slumped against Alex. She shook him gently, her voice full of worry.

"Neal? Stay with me... Please... they came for us. Neal..."

**()()()**

It was three days later when Neal finally woke up. He was in pain, his head aching and chest hurting. He tried to sit up remembering what had been about to go down when someone gently held him down.

"You're safe, Neal. Rest."

Elizabeth Burke sat beside him in what appeared to be a hospital room. He looked around confused, uncertain if he was awake or dreaming. Hadn't he been at the dry dock about to be shot. Where was Alex? El seemed to know what he was thinking and then the door opened and Peter showed up. He looked ragged if not exhausted, holding two coffee cups in his hands.

"He's awake."

She took one coffee from Peter as she left the room and the agent took her place.

"Pe... ter? Where's..."

The agent was sipping the coffee a moment before he answered. There were dark circles under his eyes as if he hadn't slept in a week.

"Alex is safe. She's in a safe house at the moment as is Mozzie... actually she's with him. Sara is back at the Bureau with Diana and Jones. They're looking into Adler but nothing so far. You've missed a lot since that first day."

Neal nodded looking a bit disappointed.

"So, Ad... ler vanished?"

Peter nodded grimly, his face obviously hiding his anger from what had happened. He put a hand on the agent's.

"We'll cat... ch... him."

Peter nodded as he patted the young man on the shoulder.

"You have my word on it..."

**oOoOoOo**

**Author's Notes****:** _I had this other version of __**Under the Radar**__ running around in my head. I wondered how different things would be if Neal had been alone without Peter's influence but everything had more or less progressed the same. Let me know what you think of it._


	18. Time and Tide wip  one shot

**Menagerie** - A collection of Short Stories and Drabbles in the world of White Collar. (_I don't own anything but I do like playing with the characters when I can._)

**Drabbles #18** - _Time and Tide_

(_whump, friendship, one shot, wip_)

**oOoOoOo**

There was only one more week before Neal would be officially off his tether and free to roam as he pleased. His sentence working for the FBI would be finished and he could either stay or leave. His choice.

Neal was of course excited, uncertain what he wanted to do although Peter hoped that the young man would stay and work with them in some capacity. He had been quietly asking around with Hughes' help trying to find a position for the ex-con with the Bureau if not a local company. The agent wanted to keep his friend with him and it seemed Neal wanted to stay. Elizabeth was planning a surprise party for the day the anklet came off for good. It was hard but they had kept it secret with June and Mozzie's help, the older con seemingly happy to help.

Peter and Neal were currently finishing up a case involving a crew of cat burglars robbing some of the more historic brownstones with half a million dollar chandeliers and paintings that should be in museums. They had caught one man who was involved and he had pointed them towards a yacht on the harbor. It was one of the biggest boats and more like a floating mansion than a typical yacht. That was his crew's next target.

The plan was for Neal to pretend to be the owner while Peter, Jones and Diana would be off on the side listening in and waiting to pounce. Peter wasn't taking any chances as he stayed hidden below in the bowels of the ship listening in. The owner had allowed them to do this with the promise nothing would happen to his possessions or yacht. Hughes had promised the man all would be well taken care of, the words emphasized for Caffrey's benefit.

It was three days before Neal's freedom from his anklet and he was sitting in the master bedroom on the 2nd floor of the yacht. He was dressed in a burgandy silk smoking jacket and matching pajamas with a brandy in his hand as he watched the fire in the large hearth. It was a very nice ship he thought, listening to Peter telling him to be wary from the receiver in his ear. He nodded, hiding it with a yawn since he might be watched and overheard. Neal made a move to rise and move over to the bed when he heard a small sound but enough to know someone was there. The con acted like he hadn't heard it as he continued to turn off the lights and move towards the bed. Someone moved close and cocked a gun by his ear.

"_Don't say a word... don't move!_"

The voice was cold and unfeeling as he held up his hands and hoped that Peter had heard that. Someone pulled his arms behind him in the dim darkness punctuated by the flickering of the fireplace. They pulled a piece of tape over his lips as his wrists were cuffed behind him and he was pulled out of the room.

Peter heard everything, Diana and Jones asking what to do as he told them to move in closer but wait till he gave the signal. He moved from his hiding place as quietly as he could. The agent could hear the men talking in harsh whispers that were picked up by the hidden mic on Neal's jacket. Finally they spoke a bit louder, asking the con to open up a safe. The owner had changed it temporarily for the sting to something Neal could use. They had to catch the thieves red handed or it wouldn't work. Peter waited just out of sight of the room they were holding Neal in as he snuck around in the darkness. He could make out the faint forms of agents on the shore as he peeked into the room and watched the thieves at work.

"Thank you Mr. Conners. It was nice doing business with you."

They pulled Neal out with them at gun point, bags of what they had stolen from the billionaire being stuffed into backpacks on their shoulders. They yanked him along to the front of the yacht, Neal wondering where Peter and the rest of them were when a boat came up along the edge of the yacht, the engine practically silent.

"Take the goods while I take care of him."

He felt the gun pressed up against his temple, Neal realizing their MO had changed if they were killing the owners now. This was a new part of their plan that hadn't shown up before as he waited for Peter and everyone to come out of hiding and rescue him.

"It's a shame you'll be taking Mr. Conners' place as his body double. He wanted this to look as much like a heist as possible. Too bad you can't thank the FBI for us, Mr. Caffrey."

Neal blinked at the man who was smiling under his mask. He heard the gun cocking, waiting for the kill shot when someone yelled out.

"**FBI! PUT YOUR HANDS UP!**"

It was Peter! Neal was never happier to see his friend, kicking at the distracted man hard and then head butting him as he made a run for it. He could only move to the front of the boat as the gun man turned and blocked his path. There were urgent hissings from the other boat for the man to join them as Neal watched him glare at him then turn to leave. Neal had already loosened one cuff and once he had the other he pulled the tape from his mouth and ran towards the man. He saw a rope and ships' tackle on the end, picking it up to lasso the man's leg. He tripped the man up, diving at him as they struggled on the edge of the ship beside the boat with the other thieves.

"**NEAL!**"

Peter called out to the young man who turned a brief moment in his struggle, a moment too long as the two men fell over the side onto the other boat and it took off. The agent ran forward to leap over but was too late. Neal saw him disappear into the distance as the boat took off with him and the man still rolling around and struggling.

"Kill him! Someone kill him already!"

He saw the other men looking at the one yelling and one of them pulled out a pistol. Neal kept the masked man he was fighting with between him and the other men, the thieves hesitant to shoot one of their own. Finally he felt a hard punch to the solar plexus and fell over to the floor of the boat as the man who hit him grabbed a gun and pointed it at him.

"You fought a heck of a fight, Mr. Caffrey but now it's time for fate to intervene."

Neal didn't know what to think as the man raised the gun and aimed at his chest. He had screwed up by chasing the man but they had to have them with the evidence for it to work. They should be chasing them and he hoped the sound was still going through.

"_Neal? Neal can you hear me?_"

He heard the faint sound of Peter's voice in the earpiece and knew they were still there.

"Yeah..."

There was a gun shot and a loud splash.

Peter froze as he heard the sound, the coast guard boat stopping nearby so he could jump on. Jones and Diana joined him as they sped after the thieves. They had all they needed on tape and video but he hoped that Neal was ok.

"Neal? Neal answer me! Neal!"

Peter was talking into the mic but hearing nothing but static. The coast guard was closing in on the boat and another boat came from the other side till the thieves put up their hands and gave in finally. Peter jumped on board with the other agents looking around and seeing no sign of his consultant, partner and friend. He was on the wire telling everyone to get boats out there and skim the water till they found Neal. He approached the masked men, one of them looking particularly smug as Peter pulled off the man's ski mask and glared at him.

"Where is he?"

Diana looked worried as she came to intervene as did Jones but Peter didn't do more than shake the man, anger in his eyes as he tried to avoid doing more.

"I have no clue of whom you speak of. Are you missing a man, Agent?"

The man's green eyes twinkled coldly but Peter just pushed him over to a group of agents with a disgusted look.

"Book this SoB and get me a boat to comb the water with!"

**()()()**

It was just over a week before Hughes called off the search officially. The case against Conners and his crew was now upped from high larceny to murder of a Federal Employee. Peter was a wreck but he hid it with a look that made everyone but Jones and Diana shrink away from him. Hughes gave Peter the rest of the month off to settle down when he blew up at him over ending the search for Neal. There were words but Reese knew it was Peter's grief speaking so he didn't discipline him except to tell him to go home and stay there till he had gotten it out of his system. Hughes had been affected by Caffrey's loss aswell, a sadness at seeing his number one agent so hurt by the loss of his partner and friend. Everyone quieter at having lost a person who had become a big part of their department and team.

The agent was devastated when they hadn't found a trace of Neal after a month much less three. It was hard to go to work when Peter was using every free moment to initiate a search of his own. He rarely slept or ate during the initial time after Neal's disappearance. The only sign that Neal had been in the water was the discarded mic and earpiece found by divers along with the burgandy smoking jacket. Any other signs of the ex-con were still to be found. Elizabeth was hard hit by the news, her plans to have the party for Neal's freedom turned from happy to sad as she created a wake in his memory instead. After four months, Peter finally had to give up hope of ever finding a trace of his friend. The coast guard could only say that they thought the under tow probably pulled the body out to sea if it hadn't been found by now. It was no consolation to know that Neal's body might be rotting in the ocean somewhere where it might never be recovered.

**()()()**

A year passed and Peter was not the same man he had been. He spent too much time at work but when he was at home he spent too much time looking over the original case files from when he chased Neal Caffrey and caught him. He stared at pictures in an album that Elizabeth had collected over time for a day when she knew Peter and Neal would no longer be cat and mouse but true friends. It had been a surprise for the party she had originally planned but now just served to remind them all of their loss and the young man who had ingrained himself so deeply in their lives. El found it hard knowing that the con she had once been jealous of stealing her husband's attention from her would now be gone forever. He had been a great friend and a surrogate son of sorts.

Mozzie came around the first month or so but then he disappeared, something missing with Neal gone. June would stop by off and on for coffee or invite them for dinner but Peter rarely joined them so it was just Elizabeth and it was hard not to want to cry. June really missed her boarder who had brought back the excitement of youth and life to her home. She had been one of his biggest cheerleaders as had El and now they could only recall what he was like.

**()()()**

Another five months passed and it had been nearly a year and a half since Neal's death. There had never been a body found but Peter knew as did everyone else that if he had been alive he'd have returned to tell them. The agent was certain of that if anything.

It was a Saturday and Satchmo was sitting on his pillow quietly chewing on one of his toys when the door bell rang. Peter barely acknowledge it, his hand holding the remote for the TV as he gazed blankly at the screen and surfed. He paused at a program and started to watch when El walked in from the kitchen and noticed what he was doing.

"Did you answer the door, honey?"

He looked up and shook his head, eyes stuck on the screen. El sighed noticing he was watching a show on impressionist artist which struck her as odd as she moved to answer the door.

"Delivery for Peter Burke."

The carrier was dressed warmly, a large thick muffler covering the lower half of his face and his cap the rest of it. Elizabeth looked back worriedly at her husband who continued to watch the screen. Satchmo perked up and moved off the pillow and over to the door beside his owner. She was trying to sign for the package when the dog barked ever so slightly, holding up a paw at the mail carrier.

"Nice dog. Lab?"

Elizabeth nodded, finishing up with the signature as she took the package and the carrier nodded slightly and left. She quickly closed the door against the cold, walking over to the sofa and dropping the large envelope in her husband's lap. He glanced up surprised at his wife.

"For you."

Peter glanced at the package something familiar about the handwriting style but he couldn't quite place it. El leaned over and kissed him, Peter reciprocating as she smiled and left for the kitchen again. Peter's attention went from the program to the package, the dog sniffing at it as he finally tore it open and found a note inside.

"In the Backyard."

The note only contained those three words as Peter blinked and looked at the address again.

_**Jeffrey Walker**_

_**33 Cafe Way**_

_**Junio, MOs**_

There was no postal address which confused him and he didn't know anyone in Missouri. The agent turned off the TV as he rose to go to the backdoor. Satchmo suddenly barked again, running to the back door and scratching in a familiar fashion that drew El back from the kitchen.

"Honey, what's wrong with Satchmo?"

Peter shrugged, pulling on his jacket and shoes as he grabbed the dog's lead and took him outside. He was still trying to figure out the note as he opened up the door and the huge lab went barrelling outside with Peter in tow.

"**SATCHMO!**"

The agent struggled to get control of the dog when the lab suddenly stopped and was jumping up at the gate excitedly. Peter moved to open it and a figure stood there wrapped up against the weather. Satchmo jumped up on the figure and was licking at their gloved hands as Peter tried to pull the dog away.

"Sorry... he's a little excited today."

The figure petted the dog gently on the head, their voice muffled by the scarf around their face.

"It's ok. Maybe he's excited for a reason, aren't you Satchmo?"

Peter was about to nod when he realized the man had called the dog by the right name.

"Did you just call my dog Satchmo?"

The figure nodded, pulling the muffler aside till Peter leaned back against the wall around their yard to keep from falling. The agent reached forward after a moment and touched the man on the shoulder, finally just gaping.

"Neal?"

**()()()**

Elizabeth was fixing the table, bringing out a dish of greens when she heard the back door opening up. Peter had been gone quite a while. She had barely put the plate on the table when Peter entered, Satchmo in the lead.

"Did Satchmo behave once you got him outside, honey?"

She wasn't really paying attention to anything but the table till she saw the look on her husband's face. He was half in and half out of the door and the cold air was making her shiver.

"Honey, come in or go outside but please close that door!"

She noticed Peter finally nod at her as he stepped inside followed by another figure she hadn't noticed. They seemed vaguely familiar to her as she blinked at her husband. The figure was wrapped up in a scarf and she suddenly realized it was the mail courier from earlier.

"Did I forget to sign something for the envelope? Was there a payment?"

She was confused by his presence till Peter made a slight nod of his head and the figure removed their scarf and she gaped. Elizabeth looked about to faint as both men ran forward to catch her. Peter got there first as the other closed the door and El looked at her husband confused.

"I must have breathed in some gas fumes... Neal's..."

"Right here. I didn't mean to scare you."

El looked between both men, finally gaining her feet and standing up beside Peter as they both looked at the young con. He looked well for someone who was supposedly dead but she noticed a small scar along his hair line and a limp when he moved forward to sit with them. He seemed quieter too unlike the young man she had known before.

"Neal? I don't understand..."

Peter interrupted.

"He just told me what happened, El."

**(TBC)**

**oOoOoOo**

**Author's Note: **_Forgot I had this sitting in Google Docs. Had started it and wasn't sure where else to go with it. *blush* I'll write more on it for sure but thought I'd post what I have now to get your interest up. ;)_**  
**


	19. Dead and Buried wip

**Menagerie** - A collection of Short Stories and Drabbles in the world of White Collar. (_I don't own anything but I do like playing with the characters when I can._)

**Drabbles #19 **- _Dead and Buried_

(_whump, friendship, hurt/comfort, supernatural_)

**oOoOoOo**

Neal woke up with a gasp, his mind blank as to where he was or how. It was pitch black or he was blind but as he moved, he felt the sides of the container that held him and a strong scent of pine. His mind was confused as to what had happened as he tried to sit up and found the box was just big enough to hold him. The sides were wood by the feel, rough and splintery, his finger catching a small bit of wood in his finger making him wince as he gasped for air and blinked in the Stygian gloom.

_Help..._

_Some... one_

_Help..._

He couldn't speak, the darkness and something else suffocating him as he pushed up on the wooden lid to whatever box he was stuffed into. It didn't budge, his mind starting to imagine something out of a nightmare as he heard a gasp from his lips and finally a strangled cry.

"He... lp."

He felt something fall through as he hit the top of the box and realized it was dirt. He wanted to scream but his throat was tight as he beat on the lid and knew someone had buried him alive.

_Let me out!_

_Someone..._

_Please..._

He kicked and beat at the sides till he was exhausted, fingers sore from clawing at the lid and his chest tight. The air felt thinner and he was growing tired as even in the darkness he felt his eyes roll back. A voice spoke from the somewhere inside his head he thought, a hand gently caressing his hair.

_It's ok dear Nicholaus... you're safe. Listen to my voice._

He fought against the fear that ate at him as the voice spoke. There was something insidious about it he couldn't place why as he twitched in semi-consciousness.

_Rest the sleep of the dead._

He felt his head pushed to one side, neck bared and something pricked his skin. Slowly his body relaxed and he felt his heart slowing to a mere beat or two, breath growing shallow as the voice continued.

_Rest... Nicholaus... rest..._

His body obeyed although he tried to fight the darkness, heart stopping as he felt coldness and then what could only be death.

**()()()**

When Neal woke up next he remembered nothing. His mind was blank of anything and everything. On the wall sat a calendar with a date marked. It was today's date but that was impossible! If that was today's date then... then he had lost a week!

He seemed to be in an office, a nice one with a desk made of what seemed to be walnut. The con lay on the floor, staring up suddenly aware of that sensation as he sat up and felt the world kind of spin around him. He moved towards a wastepaper basket and threw up in it. His body ached but he didn't understand why as he crawled away from the basket and tried to stand. A sharp pain hit him in the side as he looked down to see red on his hands and something dark staining his already dark clothing.

His mouth opened to speak but nothing came out, his lips dry and cracked as he swallowed hard and tried to think. Where was he? Why was he here? Who had shot him? He managed to stay on his feet, reaching for a pitcher of water on the desk as he sipped from it greedily. Neal felt like he hadn't drank or eaten in days, his eyes spying a jar of candy and quickly grabbing up a few of the morsels to chug them down hungrily. It made his stomach feel a bit better but not much as he stumbled towards the door and heard voices.

"He's around here somewhere. Find him!"

That didn't sound good and he was bleeding. Were they were looking for him? He didn't want to find out as he glanced around and found a vent near the floor behind the desk just out of sight. He might fit in there if he could open it fast enough.

"Try the office..."

He heard them open up the door as he pulled the vent back in and hid inside the wall duct. He held his breath, pain pulsing up his side but he had to be quiet or they'd find him. It was only a minute and they were gone, closing the door behind them. He stayed in the duct moving around till he could crawl slowly but painfully down the narrow tunnel hoping for a way out. Neal wasn't sure how he got to where he was, hoping he could contact Peter and get word to him. His memory was fuzzy but he remembered being with the agent at the office a week back then...

"He can't have gotten far. I saw traces of blood in the office. Soren wants to be sure he's still viable and if he's not... bury him."

Neal knew they were talking about him as he passed another vent and heard the voices speaking in a hallway outside. His strength was waning quickly but he had to get away and find Peter. The agent would know what to do. The con kept crawling till he heard street sounds and realized the vent had led him to an outside fan. The blades weren't running so he kicked it out as best he could and escaped into the alley, limping along until he found himself out on the street. It was early morning, a sign indicating it was 2 AM. What was he doing running around at that hour? He glanced down and saw he no longer had his anklet on which meant he had either been on assignment by Peter or...

His mind refused to tell him anything beyond his last big meeting with Peter. They'd been in the office discussing a cat burglar case. Neal had noticed something familiar about the style of the current theft thinking he might know the person who did it but...

"_**You never hesitate; Neal, spit it out! There must be a reason this theft interested you. Don't lie to me..."**_

_He had looked at the agent and finally answered but he was sure it wasn't going to be helpful to the case._

"_**I might have known a man who used a similar style. Very accomplished cat burglar if I might say so."**_

_Peter rolled his eyes but motioned for him to continue._

"_**This is his style most definitely but he's not our suspect. Has to be a copy cat..."**_

_He'd been certain it was someone copying his friend, knowing beyond a doubt his friend couldn't do this job. He heard a cough, his attention back on the agent._

"_**Why are you so certain it's not this 'man' you may have known? Neal, there's something you're not telling me."**_

_Neal swallowed hard remembering that night and knowing it was one of the few jobs that still haunted his nightmares._

"_**Peter... it can't be him. He's dead. Trust me, I was there."**_

**oOoOoOo**

**Author's Note****:** _A little idea I may write more on once I get finished with my current "sliding doors" version of AU White Collar. :)_


	20. Disappearing Act wip

**Menagerie** - A collection of Short Stories and Drabbles in the world of White Collar. (_I don't own anything but I do like playing with the characters when I can._)

**Drabbles #20 **- _Disappearing Act_

(_whump, friendship, hurt/comfort, sci-fi_)

**oOoOoOo**

Peter didn't know what to think as he came to in the empty laboratory. The room was in shambles, equipment broken if not smoldering although he found something odd about the way the smoke curled upwards. He gave a groan and sat up, finally pushing himself to his feet as he moved to the wisp of smoke and grabbed at it. His hand with through it as if it were standing still but ash was apparent on his hand if only a little bit. It was still warm but only after a moment of touching his skin. This didn't make sense!

The agent moved towards the closed door of the glass enclosure he had been trapped in when the flash of light had happened. It had been sudden and his memory was somewhat frazzled by his miraculous recovery. He should have been killed with the explosion he had felt but he was alive and in one piece far as he could tell. He pushed at the door but it didn't budge as he tried to leave the enclosure and exit out. He saw the backs of two familiar faces as he called out.

"**JONES! DIANA! HEY!**"

They didn't turn but to make the point more odd, they didn't move either, seemingly frozen in place as they were mid-step and walking away from the scene. Maybe the explosion had addled his brains and he was having a strange dream. He'd wake up at home soon, El by his side. Peter pinched himself feeling it so he must be awake. The agent cursed as he tried again to budge the door but without result. It was opening just a crack but he was still trapped in the room without a way out. This nightmare was turning into something more insidious as he started to pace the small area hoping something would occur to explain what was happening to him.

**()()()**

Everyone present had been blinded temporarily by the flash that overtook the agent and seemingly vaporized him. Neal was the first to react, running to the enclosure and banging on it desperately before Jones pulled him away afraid the same would happen to the consultant. Neal didn't seem to care, pushing the agent away as he tried to get into the room and figure out where Peter had gone.

"Neal... Hey... look at me!"

He didn't want to turn from the scene of his nightmares to come. Neal wanted to take every inch of the scene in and turn it upside down so he could figure out exactly what had made the great Agent Peter Burke, his friend and partner vanish like an assistant in a magician's act. There had been no signs of residue or anything else indicating his friend had simply blown up. There was no blood or any other trace evidence he could find as he scanned the scene with his eyes desperate for an answer.

"He's in there. Peter's in there. He has to be! There's some kind of panel, Jones. We have to open up the doors and let him out!"

Clinton held him firmly, getting another agent to help as the con finally gave into exhaustion and shock. His body went limp but his eyes continued to scan the scene as he was taken from the room. Peter couldn't be dead. His friend had stood there staring back at him scared and equally frightened but with an almost apologetic glance. Neal remembered his friend mouthing the phrase "_Tell El I love her_"before all hell broke loose.

Neal felt something warm dripping down his cheeks, no longer able to hold back the rush of emotion as he realized maybe his friend had been killed. Jones stayed with him, Diana moving around the scene as they called in more agents and tried to figure out what had happened. It was supposed to be a simple case of espionage with Neal as a possible buyer of the stolen intel. Peter ran in when things had gotten too hot for the con and then they'd heard a gun shot followed by an explosion just as they reached the floor. They'd found Neal banging on the glass as the room continued to glow from the recent blast of the contained burst. It was a new technology, an atom smasher of sorts but none of the agents really understood it's true application or meaning as they fought against their emotions to search for their missing boss and coax a statement out of the broken form of Neal Caffrey. He had been shot, a graze to his shoulder, the shooter missing and a manhunt for them as the building was locked down. Haz-mat was on it's way as Jones and Diana tried to make sense of the incident and their boss' disappearance.

**(TBC)**

**oOoOoOo**

**Author's Note****:** _Something that popped into my head. Sci-Fi elements and kind of Petercentric. If you like, let me know. I may make this my next story._


	21. Spa Day wip

**Menagerie - A collection of Short Stories and Drabbles in the world of White Collar. (I don't own anything but I do like playing with the characters when I can.)**

Drabbles #21 - Spa Day  
(whump, friendship, hurt/comfort, fluff, humor, spoilers for Seasons 1 - 3)

oOoOoOo

It was a strange day indeed that saw two very unlikely companions making their way in a blue Taurus towards the _Forest Green Day Spa_ in mid-town Manhattan. Peter Burke was driving while Neal Caffrey sat in the passenger seat looking absolutely elated at the thought of a spa day. Peter had other ideas as he thought about just dropping his charge off at the place and acting like he went but he knew if he didn't go, Neal would tell Elizabeth and she had insisted they take the day for a visit to a spa on her behalf. The time had been given to her as a gift from a client but she was far too busy to take claim so she had offered it to the first person who'd said yes: Neal Caffrey.

Neal liked primping and being taken care of so he asked the first person he could think of. Mozzie had declined his invitation due to prior obligations with Sally. Sara declined due to a case keeping her occupied but they weren't seeing much of each other lately. Jones had said no quite reluctantly since he was busy with a stakeout in the van all weekend. The agent had been more than eager to go it seemed but nobody wanted to take his post. When Neal asked Diana, she'd glanced at him as if he were hitting on her and refused outright. Her phrasing had involved there being a "_cold day_" in a place that wasn't that cold. He had even asked his landlady June if she wanted to go with him but she had too many committee meetings and obligations that Neal reluctantly asked the last and final person he ever thought to inquire about such a date.

"No, Neal... besides, what would I do there? Do I look like I enjoy sitting around letting people paw at me and dip me in mud? Ask Mozzie."

Neal wasn't going to let up, Elizabeth on the other side of the room working in her office on some last minute details for an upcoming event. He noticed her head turning to watch them surreptitiously, acting as if she weren't interested in what they said. Neal decided to use her interest to his advantage.

"I asked Mozzie but he's got a date with Sally. (_Pausing a second as if deep in thought_) Didn't Hughes say something about getting someone to work on that shoulder of yours, Peter? Getting hit with or without a bullet proof vest still causes damage."

Maybe that was a low blow but apparently Peter hadn't told his wife what had happened the other day as she stiffened at the comment, turning to look at them. Peter was giving him the evil eye but it was that or go alone and Neal Caffrey never went alone.

"Peter is what Neal said true? You said it was a sprain."

The agent looked like he was going to kill his charge and partner but he couldn't if his wife got mad at him.

"It was nothing honey. I swear. Neal is making more out of it than it is. He's just trying to convince me to go to this 'day spa' he has time for. Why any person would go to a place like that seems like a waste of time and money."

He saw the look on El's face as she glared at him like a mother hen, hands on her hips. Peter felt like he had said something wrong but didn't know what till she turned to Neal and smiled softly.

"If I have anything to say about this, you're going hon. Neal, if he doesn't, tell me."

Peter opened his mouth to protest but Elizabeth held up a hand.

"The day spa was a gift from me to Neal. A client gave it to me but I don't have time with my busy schedule to use it. Neal was good enough to help me pick out food for that client's event so that's why I gave him the time. Now... they have chiropractors and masseuses there. You can have them work out the kinks on that shoulder and the pain in your back. Go and relax honey. You deserved it."

Peter still looked like he was going to protest but she moved closer, patting Neal on the shoulder and glaring a bit at her husband.

"Go and I won't make you see Dr. Alcotte. I know you're not fond of him."

He shut his mouth and nodded, glaring at his partner before letting go of his annoyance and just crossing his arms over his chest.

"Fine, but no foofy stuff. I'm not doing a mud bath and have strange people paw at my body."

Elizabeth held back a snicker as did Neal who shook his his head with a look like he had a million zingers.

"Thank you, El. I really appreciate this and I'll make sure Peter does too."

**(TBC)**

**oOoOoOo**

**Author's Note****:** _A little idea I've been playing with in my head. Let me know what you think._


	22. Corrupt wip

**Menagerie** - A collection of Short Stories and Drabbles in the world of White Collar. (_I don't own anything but I do like playing with the characters when I can._)

**Drabbles #22 **- _Corrupt_

(_whump, friendship, hurt/comfort, paranormal, spoilers for Seasons 1 - 3_)

**oOoOoOo**

Neal felt the impact as he hit the concrete, the base of his skull thudding against the hard surface. He was stunned, eyes rolling back as he tried to keep conscious. There was a vague sense that someone was nearby, the sound of something that would normally make him freeze echoing off the walls of the empty warehouse.

"Stupid snitch! You should have thought twice before trying to con me..."

He was helpless, lying stunned on the cold, dusty floor. His eyes rolled back and focused on metal pointed down at him, hard steely green eyes burning their anger into him as a finger pulled back slowly on the trigger. Neal knew he was a dead man, pure and simple as he stared back into an emotionless face.

"**FBI! DROP YOUR WEAPON!**"

Neal turned his eyes to see Jones and Diana along with several other agents surrounding them. They were heavily armed but the gunman continued to smile, pulling the trigger back till...

There was a report but Neal didn't feel it, eyes shut tight but opening again when he felt someone nudge him. He jerked away but it was Jones crouched there when he opened his eyes again. The agent was placing his jacket under his head, trying to make him comfortable when Neal's glance moved to another figure not so far away.

"Pe... ter. Knox... shot him."

They had come in together but something had gone horribly wrong and Kenneth Knox had shot Peter then shoved Neal to the cement. The con hadn't had time to check on his friend as Jones nodded back and went to take a peek. Neal managed to push himself to his feet, stumbling towards where he had last seen his partner and friend. Peter lay still on the cold cement, his head slumped loosely to one side as Jones and another agent approached. Smoke wafted from the pistol next to Peter's right hand as they checked for a pulse.

"He's not breathing. No pulse. Someone call a bus!"

Jones put his gun away, quickly starting CPR on the agent while the others turned and checked for accomplices but Knox had been alone. He had gotten the jump on them both but he had done it single-handed. Neal's head ached as he stood there and watched Jones breathing for the agent, another agent performing chest compressions. Nothing seemed to be happening as Neal's eyes moved back towards Diana and the others remarking on Knox being dead. He felt a chill as if someone had opened a door directly to Winter. Neal shivered slightly just as he heard a gasp of breath and saw Jones looking relieve.

"Peter's back!"

Neal felt relief, crouching down beside the still unconscious agent as two medics came quickly over and began to check the vitals of the agent and gently rolled him onto a gurney. Neal asked to go along, a third medic checking the bump on the back of his head as they headed for the ambulance waiting outside. Jones followed along, telling Neal to call once they reached the hospital. He nodded tiredly as the ambulance doors were shut and the bus started on its journey. Neal held onto Peter's hand, hoping for a reaction when he felt that cold chill again, the agent's hand squeezing his.

"Peter?"

He watched the agent start to rouse some, face contorting a bit as if he were in pain or struggling against something. It confused Neal until he felt the hand squeeze his tighter, he winced, brown eyes suddenly staring up at him.

"_Ne... al..._"

The voice was faint as he moved closer to hear.

"What is it Peter?"

He waited for his friend to speak when he heard something that made him pull away.

"_You should have thought twice before trying to con me... Snitch._"

Neal didn't know what to think as Knox's words left Peter's lips, a cold emotionless glance making the agent's brown eyes look almost hazel green in the half light of the ambulance. He wasn't sure what just happened as Peter passed out again. The medics didn't seem to notice anything unusual and slowly the chill dissipated as the agent relaxed, the ambulance continuing towards its destination.

**(TBC)**

_Just a little something that came to me. I haven't had the time to write a whole story with computer issues and work being a bit busier than usual._


	23. Adversarial wip

**Menagerie** - A collection of Short Stories and Drabbles in the world of White Collar. (_I don't own anything but I do like playing with the characters when I can._)

**Drabbles #24 **- _Adversarial_

(_whump, friendship, hurt/comfort, spoilers for all seasons_)

**oOoOoOo**

Neal felt the drummer in his head beating before the rest of his senses came to. It was a low throb on the left side of his head that made him feel less like waking up and more like falling deeper into the darkness that currently enfolded him like a coccoon.

_Neal, let me do the talking..._

Someone was speaking to him but it was in memory, his head throbbing more at the very thought of remembering what had happened. He tried to think about the recent past but the darkness was more comforting and the escape it brought to his aching head made him fall back into it.

_What are you doing? Neal...!_

He woke up with a start, eyes staring up at the dimly lit interior of some strange building. A strong scent of wet damp grass or hay filled his nostrils as he promptly sat up and gave a weak groan. The drummer in his head wasn't finished with their solo, Neal doing his best to ignore them as he checked out his surroundings and reached to touch his temple. His right arm's movement was cut short, a jingling sound drawing his attention downward to see himself cuffed at the wrist.

"Why am I cuffed?"

Neal was still trying to think what he had been dreaming about, the sound of a gunshot or atleast the memory of one having been what had awakened him. His head continued to ache but he ignore it checking out the cuff and finding himself attached to another person. The con blinked in surprise as he saw who he was cuffed to.

"Peter? Hey... wake up!"

He was worried now, the agent laying beside him still and pale looking in the dimly lit barn loft they were taking shelter in. The air was chilly and cool, his breath obvious as was the agent's when he drew near to check for a pulse. Peter was alive but he was unconscious.

"Peter..."

Neal looked down at the cuff holding him to the agent and wondered what had happened. They had been driving down a back road from talking to a witness when... And then he drew a blank. His head hurt the more he tried to remember but he knew he needed to, but first things first. He started to gently feel around in the agent's pockets for the key, opening up Peter's coat and feeling inside the top pocket of his partner and friend's trench coat until he found what he was looking for.

"Atleast you still have the key. Guess they didn't know you had a spare like I do."

He smiled to himself, unlocking the cuff and rubbing at his wrist when he heard a sound nearby. Neal tensed, moving away from the still cuffed agent with key in hand as he peered over the edge uncertain what he might find.

A small raccoon scampered across the hay covered floor below them. He leaned back and gave a relieved sigh. It was just an animal looking for shelter from the weather as they apparently had, the hint of snow and sleet falling heavily outside the abandoned barn. Neal still couldn't remember what had happened but the memory of a gun firing made him think it couldn't have been good. He turned to see that Peter was still unconscious as he tried his best to make the agent comfortable before crawling over to the ladder to make his way down. Once at the bottom he felt around in his own pockets disappointed to find his cell phone missing. Peter's was gone as well so there was no way to make a call unless he found a farmhouse nearby or some other people who might let him use their phone. Neal wandered over to the partially open doors of the barn and glanced outside. It was more than a winter wonderland, the scenery lined in white which at the moment was far more treacherous than beautiful. There appeared to be no other structures much less a main house anywhere in view. Maybe once the storm passed through they'd be able to walk somewhere but even so, Peter was hurt and without food or water, they'd both be worse for wear in a day or two.

He took off his gloves, picked up a clean looking handful of snow and took a bite out of it. The icy warmed up immediately, dripping down his throat and making his thirst less than it had been. He ate a bit more ice feeling his stomach growl slightly before taking a handful up to the loft with him and using it to carefully clean the wound at the base of Peter's head. He had noticed the bump and gash but had nothing to clean it with until now. Neal removed his scarf and wrapped the agent's head and wound with the ice inside to keep the wound clean. Peter remained asleep so Neal curled up beside his friend and did his best to keep them both warm as he piled hay around them as a buffer against the wind and cold and passed into a light sleep.

_Why... Neal!_

He woke up with a start, that sound of someone shooting obvious again. It was in his mind wasn't it? He was just remembering what happened although his mind was still fuzzy on the details, only the voices coming back to him. Neal reached to wipe at his face when he froze, the sound of a gun cocking obvious. Someone hovered over him, blurry at first until his blue eyes finally focused and he could see who it was.

"Peter? What's going... on?"

He turned to look behind him but couldn't see anything or anyone the agent would be holding a gun against. Neal turned back towards his friend, moving to stand beside him when he heard the agent hiss at him.

"Don't make a move, Caffrey. I don't... know what you did to me..."

Neal gazed up at his friend confused, hands up when he saw a look he never thought he'd see from the agent: uncertainty and fear. Peter was staring at him as if he were a criminal.

"Peter... I didn't do anything..."

He heard another hiss, the agent throwing something down beside him.

"Call me Agent Burke. Cuff yourself and don't make any sudden movements or I will shoot you Caffrey."

Neal didn't know what to do, how to react to his friend acting as if they weren't friends. He hesitated a moment, eyes watching the shaking trigger finger of his partner on the gun. Peter's eyes weren't nearly as brown as they should be, more black than brown filling the space. He must have some kind of concussion causing him to act this way. Neal held his hands up slowly, placing one cuff around one wrist and then starting to place the other when Peter pointed at a nearby post.

"Behind you and around the post. No funny business, Caffrey!"

Neal nodded as he did as he was told and leaned back tiredly against the post. It wasn't as if he couldn't escape the cuffs but with Peter acting off he had to pretend to be anything but what he was: Neal Caffrey con and escape artist. Peter looked satisfied as he continued to hold the gun but not so threateningly. The agent moved a bit closer, gun in hand but at the ready as he crouched before the con.

"What did you do to me, Caffrey? Where are we? Did you drug me?"

The agent was asking him as if they weren't friends and were still playing cat and mouse. Neal wasn't sure how to respond but honesty at this point was all he could effectively use. It was worth a try.

"We... were hijacked. I don't know why who but I think you were grazed by a bullet, Peter. I was knocked out too. I woke up here with are wrists cuffed. Do you remember anything?"

It was all he could do not to free himself as he sat still and stared up at the agent with the most honest glance he could muster. Peter wasn't buying it even though he was telling the truth. The agent shook his head then looked a bit green around the gills as he faltered standing up again.

"Hijacked? I don't... No, you're lying to me. You did something. I was chasing you and now we're here, wherever HERE is. Now tell me where we are Caffrey."

The agent was swaying slightly, voice starting to slur as he glared down at him. Neal knew immediately this wasn't a prank and Peter really didn't know him. He thought they were back before their partnership. The con swallowed hard before he answered.

"You're hurt, P... I mean Agent Burke. I didn't know about the ambush. I was hurt too."

He turned his head to show the gash on his forehead, Peter's dull brown eyes focusing on the wound. For a moment he thought the agent was going to believe him but then he just shook his head.

"I don't remember an ambush, I just remember you running around the corner in the museum and then..."

Peter hesitated, face looking confused as he tried to finish the thought. Neal wondered if the agent was in pain as he had been trying to remember what happened.

"Agent Burke... Peter!"

His friend turned towards him with a blank look, collapsing to his knees as he kept the gun at the ready but continued to stare at him.

"The museum... I was... chasing... This feels wrong."

Neal saw that glimmer of memory coming to the agent, Peter fighting to remember something.

"Yes. You chased me at the museum Peter but we didn't end up here. Try to remember what happened."

The agent looked up at him and then back at the hay on the loft floor.

"Museum... You..."

It was all too sudden as the agent collapsed to the ground. Neal was out of his cuffs in a heartbeat, moving to help the agent when a gun was pushed towards him, Peter looking up as he held it.

"Don't... try anything... Caffr..."

Peter slumped unconscious into the hay, the agent's body going slack as his hand loosened around the gun. Neal made sure to remove the gun from his friend's hand before he gently flipped the agent onto his back and checked for a pulse. His vitals were stable but the agent was warm with fever, his breath hitching off and on as if he were struggling.

"Wake up, Peter. Come on..."

The agent gave a quiet groan before he was quiet again, a small tic off and on in one cheek as he slept fitfully. Neal didn't want to leave the agent but he had to go down and get more snow for the wound if not to bring the fever down. He quickly made Peter comfortable, wrapping him in his own jacket as he climbed down the loft ladder and dug out more snow and took it up with him. He placed some of the cold slush on his friend's head, some on his friend's neck where the wound was and melted a bit in his hands for the agent to drink.

"Peter... come on, drink this."

The agent gave another quiet groan but drank the slushy melted snow to Neal's surprise. Brown eyes gazed up at him suddenly, a questioning look in them.

"What..."

Neal waited for the rest of the words, uncertain what to expect.

"... angle... are you... play... ing Caff... frey?"

**(TBA)**

**Author's Note****:** _Just a little something floating around in my head lately. I may continue this if you ask nicely. :) Thanks for reading!_


	24. Countdown Elizabeth 1shot

**Menagerie** - A collection of Short Stories and Drabbles in the world of White Collar. (_I don't own anything but I do like playing with the characters when I can._)

**Drabbles #24 **- _Countdown - Elizabeth_

(_whump, friendship, hurt/comfort, spoilers for Seasons 3 Cliffhanger_)

**oOoOoOo**

Elizabeth had barely hung up the phone with Peter when she heard a strange sound. She was still stirring the pot with pasta sauce on the stove when she heard it again and realized it was Satchmo.

"Satch? What's wrong boy? Do you need to go out?"

She was wondering what was up, the normally calm yellow lab bristling as he gazed at their backdoor. Elizabeth wasn't sure what to think when suddenly the door flew open. She dropped the spoon in her hand she had used to stir the sauce as a strange man in black clothes and a dark ski mask rushed into her home. Satchmo continued to growl, the sound growing louder as the man moved paste the angry dog without a glance. Elizabeth was trying to dial Peter back, afraid as she rushed towards the front door. The man was faster, rushing at her before she left the oven, the pot spilling over off the range as they struggled. Elizabeth gave out a loud scream as the man covered her mouth and practically lifted her off her feet, another man in black coming in through the front door as El heard the first man scream in pain. She was dropped to the floor, scrambling to run out the backdoor as she watched Satchmo biting the first attacker's hand, growling dangerously. She was nearly out the door when she heard a yelp, turning out of motherly instinct to see what was wrong. It was a moment too long as a third man came in from the back yard and grabbed her, a rag stuffed into her mouth as the others came to help and dragged her out the front door, muffled screams waking the neighbors as they pushed her into a waiting black van.

She saw Susan, the lady who lived next to them staring out the window on the second floor of the next brownstone. Her neighbor was pointing and gesticulating with a frightened look as she obviously spoke on the phone with someone who was probably the police. El's view was suddenly cut off as the van took off with a squeal and the door slid shut with a loud slam. She was still being held, arms pulled tightly behind her as her wrists were bound and tape pulled over her lips to keep the rag in when she tried to scream again. She was glaring at the man when one of them held a rag to her nose, a sickly sweet smell filling her nostrils. El fought but soon passed into blissful oblivion.

**()()()**

Elizabeth woke up feeling groggy and nauseated. She felt something stuffed in her mouth and suddenly remembered her abduction. She tried to move but found herself tied to a chair in a dimly lit room. The hint of cigarette smoke was obvious, her eyes turning to see a glowing ember brighten then dim. Someone was watching her in the semi-darkness as her eyes adjusted and a tough looking guy moved towards her. Something about him seemed familiar but she couldn't place her finger on it as her mind went blank from the after effects of whatever they'd used on her.

"Mrs. Burke... it's so nice to finally meet the woman behind the agent. Such a pretty woman too."

She blinked back at him as the room was suddenly flooded with light and she could see him more clearly. His face rang a bell with her but still she couldn't quite figure out where she knew him from. The man smiled back coldly at her as if he knew what she was thinking.

"I'm being a terrible host. I know you but you... well, I'm sure Burkie if not Caffrey have talked about me. I borrowed your husband for a while..."

His voice trailed off and suddenly it hit her. She knew who this man was, blue eyes narrowing up at him from her seat as she let out a few choice words. The rags and tape kept him from hearing it clearly but it was obvious what she meant as he snickered at her.

"So you do know who I am, Mrs. Burke. Good. I always believe in telling it as it is right up front. I do what needs to get done and this was my only means to getting at something Caffrey has no business holding."

Keller kept smiling that cold smile at her, irritating her to no end despite her fears. She was angry and El wasn't going to let him intimidate her. He was a bully if anything like Fowler had been but more so. His whole manner was antagonistic as he smirked at her, cigarette smoldering between his lips a moment before he dropped it into a nearby ashtray and moved a bit closer to her, crouching down to her eye level.

"Something that big can't be hidden or held in private for long. Caffrey had to know that and now that I know he has it, well... your husband and his partner in crime will have to give it to me if they want to see you well."

He took a hold of her chin in his hand and she felt a few callouses there unlike with Neal's hands which were smoother. This man got his hands dirty if anything, she knew that more than well from what happened with her husband. Peter had been kidnapped at gun point and she had worried sick about him. If Neal had the treasure was he helping Peter find her? Could they still work together to get her back and take this man down? Her heart felt sick knowing that Neal had lied to them, to Peter especially but they had to get over the hurt if she was going to live. Suddenly all the stress of her husband's past year trying to discover if Neal had the treasure hit her like a rock and she wanted to cry.

"I don't like to hurt women, especially a pretty thing like you but your husband and Caffrey know what I'm capable of."

**oOoOoOo**

**Author's Note****:** _Wrote this prior to Checkmate coming out. I guess I never posted it. Let me know what you think post-episode. :)_


	25. Last Man Standing WIP

**Menagerie** - A collection of Short Stories and Drabbles in the world of White Collar. (_I don't own anything but I do like playing with the characters when I can._)

**Drabbles #25 **- _Last Man Standing (WIP)_

(_whump, friendship, hurt/comfort, spoilers for all seasons_)

**oOoOoOo**

Peter's head ached, his body cold as he shivered against what felt like drops of water falling on him in a light steady flow. He had been dreaming about being at the office. Remembering.

_Are you sure you can do this, Peter?_

_I've done my share of camping. I'll survive._

The voice was someone familiar and his own in friendly conversation, fading into the depths of fog and fuzziness that was now his aching head as he came to.

"Yeah, he's alive. He did the deed but I'll play with him a bit before leaving him for the wolves."

Someone was talking in the background, a cold gravelly voice with a bemused tone that made the agent feel anything less than amused. The tone was dark and unfriendly but he let consciousness wash over him slowly, the aches and pains of whatever had happened coming back to him ten-fold as his eyes eased open.

He was sitting in the woods, tall trees rising up into the fog above him like so many sentinels as he shook his head and tried to focus on his surroundings. The canopy hid him from the sky above along with the grayish haze which seemed to be the cause of the light drizzle on his face and body. His clothes were soaked, dirty and his arms pulled back securely at the wrist around a large tree trunk where he sat on the muddy, dew soaked ground. His legs and ankles were secured with zip-ties hampering his movements more as he kicked at the damp grass and earth. Peter gave a low groan of pain as he shifted and felt his left shoulder pull where he must have knocked it out of whack. He couldn't speak, something soft stuffed into his mouth, tape pulled over his lips. A low chuckle brought his attention off to his right and behind him where a silhouette stood in the gloom.

"You finally woke up. I'm surprised. I would have thought you'd be out a while longer but then the darkness is a good place to forget."

He didn't understand what the man meant, the shadow drawing closer until he could see the man's face a bit clearer. The figure stood just below 5'9, short cropped graying brown hair, scraggly beard despite the neat haircut and enough scars on his face to indicate the man had lived a hard life. Cold hazel eyes stared back, one a bit off, almost white on one side indicating the man had cataracts. There was a predatory manner about the man, a large K-bar knife in his hands along with a cell. A cold terror filled the agent's veins as he wondered who this man was and why he was here. The man seemed to sense his trepidation.

"You're probably wondering where you are... and why. Good questions to ask. Can't guarantee you'll like what I tell you, Stevens."

Stevens? The man thought his name was... Wait! Stevens... Jacob Stevens. That was a cover name. Neal had helped him come up with it for their current investigation. What had the case been about? His memory failed to tell him much but the man's voice distracted him from the little information it wanted to provide.

"It's a shame your partner didn't agree with you. It was easy setting him up for the fall and now it looks like you not only killed him but stayed out in the woods until a hunter accidentally shot you. Shame."

_Partner? He had... backup? Who had been here?_

"Oh don't worry, Jacob. You killed him well enough. His body was washed away by the creek swell below us. Good thing you had your argument near a cliff face. Makes things less messy that way. Mother Nature is a great housekeeper."

The man grinned coldly, yellowed teeth glaring back at him as he fought to get what little info his aching head could give him. Flashes of what the man said were coming to him but in small pieces he couldn't yet figure out.

"You've forgotten already? Guess a hard blow to the head will do that. Let me refresh your memory for you."

The man crouched before him, the K-bar evidently there for effect. It was working but Peter glared back, hiding his fear. The man laughed, a pungent scent of rotting meat and cigarettes hitting him in the nose and making him want to gag.

"My name is Oliver... you don't need to know anything more than that. I work for the man that hired you but your services aren't needed any more. You and your partner were doing a job for us and you killed him to keep both your cuts. That's just fine though because, your cut is mine now."

The man drew closer, that putrid breath making him ill as he held his breath some and felt a sudden flash of memory come back to him.

_I thought were were in this together? What are you doing?_

The memory of a gun going off drew him back to the nasty breath and his own need to draw in air. The man laughed, pulling the tape and rags from his mouth and smiling broadly. Peter wheezed, taking in a deep breath to ease his aching chest and body. The air was moist and cool making him cough more as he took in deeper breaths.

"Ah! You're starting to remember. It will come back. I'll be sure you remember every last detail before I'm finished with you. _HE_ wanted to be sure it looked like an accident."

Oliver smiled again, cold and tiger-like as he stood and moved away out of sight and hearing. Peter was left alone, the silent trees the only witness to his capture as he shifted in the wet muddy ground and tried to get an idea where he was. It might be upstate for all he knew or further. These were aspen, some spruce but definitely from the New York area. He couldn't see the sky still as he gazed up through the haze and thought about his own foggy memories.

_Kill me if you have to but you'll never be rid of me!_

Peter didn't understand the voice talking to him. It was familiar and yet...

Neal. It was Neal Caffrey's voice he was hearing. Neal had... they had come out here together, the consultant reluctant but willing to help out when something went awry last minute.

_I will now. Good-bye... Partner._

He heard the report of a gun in his head, an ache where he had been hit. Oliver had said he'd attacked him hadn't he? Peter glanced around and realized he wanted to go home, see his wife, pet his dog...

He heard the report again as if someone had shot and this time saw an image of Neal stiffening, something red on his chest as a large crimson stain grew larger and the young man fell backwards over a cliff face. Peter stood frozen in place, his mind trying to make sense of the memory. It looked so real as he watched his partner disappear over the side of the promontory and vanish.

**NEAL!**

He was suddenly back in the present, heart racing, mind a flurry with his memories broken and fragmented as they were. Had he really shot his partner? Was Neal really dead? What had he done?

**(TBC)**

**Author's Note:** _Just a little taste of something that came to me. I might expand on it. Let me know what you think. :)_


	26. Judgment's Thoughts Finale spoilers

**Menagerie** - A collection of Short Stories and Drabbles in the world of White Collar. (_I don't own anything but I do like playing with the characters when I can._)

**Drabbles #25 **- _Judgment's Thoughts (Finale Retrospect)_

(_friendship, angst, hurt/comfort, spoilers for season 3 Finale_)

**oOoOoOo**

Neal gave his last and final speech to the commutation board but his heart was in a better place this time. He felt no need for showboating or even as Mozzie would call it, sucking up to the board. If anything happened he was happy to stay with Peter , his friends and new found family. That's all he needed and ever wanted as he said as much before the prying stares of the board. As he left the room, he felt a kind of lightness in his spirit he could almost call his first relaxed moment in years. His last moment of happiness, true happiness had been the day before he ran away on his 18th birthday. Ellen had just told him about the truth of his father and with that revelation his secure life as he knew had been shattered and he escaped. He'd spent years trying to find himself, stealing as he thought perhaps it was his heritage since his father was nothing more than a criminal. Why follow the law when the one person you put everything you believed in broke it?

His thoughts turned next to the time of his capture by Agent Burke... no Peter. The man was no longer a faceless "_suit_" in the crowd. Neither were his seconds Agent Barrigan and Jones. They were his friends and colleagues. Boss and partners. They were equals despite his past and with June's trust in him and Sara's forgiveness he could overcome any obstacle. No longer was he defined by what he had thought his life was to be. Ellen had told him his father didn't start off bad, _the evil_ as she called it had come later. Much as he had stolen and lied, Neal had never killed or become truly evil. He thought of Keller's coldness and then the gleeful air that rang in Kramer's voice when he thought he had caught Neal in the act. Both men had let themselves fall into the dark side. They had learned not to care anymore for people. Peter had believed in him... _did_ believe in him and now he had a real chance. Mozzie would be there at his side and New York would be his permanent home.

With these thoughts he found himself outside talking to Peter. The agent seemed distracted (possibly by his coming recommendation) as he brought up the Degas and Ellen. Neal told him the truth on the latter but his friend laughed thinking he was joking. He really had told no lies to Peter. Of all the people in his current life, he cherished their friendship the highest of all and he hoped when they spoke next he could tell Peter everything. The agent left for his part of the hearing leaving the conman alone. Neal walked the block in a slow circuit taking all the sights in and feeling more and more like he was home. Everything felt perfect.

It was nearly an hour later when he walked back towards the commutation building and saw Peter looking upset and angry. Kramer was on the steps talking to him with several Marshals in tow. Something stunk but he didn't know what as he stood just behind a statue and stared across at his friend. It was a few moments of worry that Peter wouldn't notice him and then... their eyes met. Brown and Blue; Earth and Sky; Grounded vs Cappucino in the clouds. There were so many emotions flowing between the two but only one that made him anxious as the agent slowly shook his head. Peter was telling him to go but it was more than that. Something had gone terribly wrong. Neal gave a tiny nod of his head back then disappeared into the crowd.

He had barely turned the corner to grab a cab when he saw Kramer and his men following Peter inside. For a moment he hesitated, some part of him longing to run back and protect his partner but the memory of that look told him it was best for him to leave and leave quickly. Neal sat in the cab and fidgeted the whole ride. He paid the driver, entered June's and ran up the stairs two at a time. Nobody was home so that was some consolation as he leaned back on his door and felt that old fear coming back: His world was falling apart again. Everything was crumbling around him but it wasn't his fault. This time he had no reason to feel blame or guilt and yet, just a tiny bit filled his spirit as he quickly ran to the large portrait by his bed and opened it up. He reached inside and pulled out a bag and quickly filled it with what he needed. There were other things to do but first things first. He found some tailors shears and walked over to the mirror as he propped up his left foot on the small table to remove his anklet. His eyes caught his reflection in the mirror and saw the fear, the unhappiness at losing a home again but he had to do this. SNIP!

Neal picked up the bag and anklet, walking over to the table and dropping the item on top. He stared at it a while, a very long time it seemed before his courage returned and he left the house. He grabbed another cab and quickly called up Mozz.

"_Mon Frer..._"

"Bring Lolana..."

He said nothing else as he heard a grunt of answer on the other end and the call was over. Neal pushed the phone into his pocket but not before thinking of others he could call... _wanted_ to call but couldn't. He shook his head giving directions to the airport where he quickly bought a ticket and boarded the plane. His blue eyes stared out the window with wide eyed nervousness, the stewardess asking if he's afraid to fly but he shook his head and they left him alone. His fingers fumbled to put on the seat-belt and then she was there. Lolana bobbled and danced on the table between him and his guest. It was Mozz. They said nothing, only a look passing between them before the plane took off and they were on their way.

It was a long few minutes, they made their way down the runway and lifted up into the clouds. Many emotions ran through Neal's mind and he swallowed hard realizing the home he'd come to love might be lost to him forever. Peter was the first person on his mind followed by El then Sara and June. He hoped Diana wouldn't get in trouble for her helping him while wondering if Jones had said his piece at the hearing. So many thoughts ran through his mind but one face filled it: _Peter's_. He saw that last expression and the silent words _he_ could only hear: _Run..._

**(The End)**


	27. False Judgment Finale spoilers

**Menagerie** - A collection of Short Stories and Drabbles in the world of White Collar. (_I don't own anything but I do like playing with the characters when I can._)

**Drabbles #26 **- _False Judgment (What if...)_

(AU, _friendship, angst, hurt/comfort, spoilers for season 3 Finale_)

**oOoOoOo**

He leaned over the desk, his eyes blurring from reading the brief. It wasn't mortgage fraud but it was still dull. He had never liked paper work or case files in general but he had put up with it so long as he could remain working with Peter and the White Collar department. They were his friends and colleagues and he would do anything to stay with them. This unfortunately wasn't the New York office of the Bureau but DC. Neal glanced up from the dull brief, something about a missing Monet, his eyes glancing out at the beautiful picturesque view of the District of Columbia. The Washington Monument rose up stark and tall above the city, the Potomac spreading out before him towards the narrow edifice. Under any other circumstances he may have found the view breathtaking but since he saw it everyday and couldn't do anything _but_ look, his heart was beginning to view the monument as a symbol of his captivity.

His eyes continued to stare at the tower, mind remembering buildings in another city towering up along a certain sky line when he heard a cough and turned to see a man in a standard issue FBI Brook Bros suit of gray. The man, Agent Jabakowski, stared at him with coal brown eyes, Neal nodding back despite himself as he wrote something quickly on a pad next to the brief, pushed the sheet into the folder and handed it over to the agent. The man shook his head, pointing at the door without a word. This was different from his usual routine, Neal rising to his feet as he took the folder and notepad with him under his arm and stopped short of the door. He watched the man swipe a card through a slide by the door, a normal door at that with no obvious lock. If he had wanted to he could technically walk out but other circumstances kept him at bay. Neal waited patiently, mind wandering as the light on the swipe turned green and he glanced down to see his anklet beep in answer. The agent motioned for him to go out into the hallway, gun obvious under his jacket as they left the room with no words.

The DC offices were no less disinteresting as the New York ones but at least he had a reason for wanting to be at the other offices. Here drab nameless agents (_he knew their last names only_) led him around from one room to another, swiping cards to release his anklet from one space to another. Apparently Kramer didn't want to take a chance he would make friends much more run. Each key-card was different so he would have to steal two dozen or more cards and know which one went with which door. They all looked the same so as good as his memory was, it would be nearly impossible to handle that many key-cards to escape much less run across the hall to hide in a new room. He sighed inwardly, dragging his feet along with the agent without really looking where they were going. He'd been in DC close to a year already and the monotony and dread of waking up in this place was dampening his spirits. Kramer had told him from the get go that if he ever chose to run, Peter's job would be on the line. That was all the incentive Neal needed to behave but it didn't help the fact he wanted to be there with his old partner and friend in New York sharing Italian Roast on June's terrace or drinking wine with Mozzie.

"Hey!"

The man didn't yell so much as speak firmly to get his attention. Neal looked up to see that he had ever so slightly walked passed the man, the yellow light on his anklet blinking up at him to indicate he was about to set off an alarm. He stepped back and it returned to green as the man nodded at him almost sympathetically.

"Wait in here."

Neal nodded as the man slid his card and the answering beep from his anklet told them he was clear to enter the room. Once he was inside the man exited leaving the door open without any obvious fear of Neal's running. The con stood there at the door way curious, his blue eyes almost rebellious looking as he started to move his anklet laden leg towards the threshold watching the light blink yellow then...

This was stupid! He moved back without completing the task. He hadn't tried to get past security for some months now. He had attempted to run several times without exiting the building and had always been found. Neal suspected the Bureau of having cameras in every room even the closets. Kramer was paranoid at best. He glanced around the room, one he hadn't been in before. It looked to be a small conference room, dry erase boards on three walls, a projector stuck to the ceiling above and a large table in the middle that reminded him of the one in the painting of the last supper if it had been Formica. Neal made a slow circuit of the room which was maybe 10 x 20 at best as he noticed a stack of large square and oblong cloth covered boards in one corner. He barely glanced back before removing the covering from one of the larger items, a slight gasp escaping his lips as he saw what was beneath.

"Beautiful... isn't it?"

Neal spun around quickly, nearly dropping the item and knocking two more over as he found Kramer standing behind him in the doorway. The man was smiling that cold unreadable smile he remembered all too well from when he had first met him. It was looking a hyena in the eye before it attacked he thought as the man stepped into the room as if he owned the place. It took a moment for him to get his tongue back and his courage. The longer he stayed in the agent's grasp, the more he felt his talents and general well-being wasting away. Kramer may think he was doing Neal good keeping him cooped up and unable to do wrong but it was like locking a phoenix up in a cage. Eventually a caged animal attacks or it dies.

"It is... too bad it's a forgery. Why am I here, Phillip?"

As much as the man had control over him, he still tried to bring some of his own rebellion to the picture. He might not be able to make friends or get to know the nameless people who were leading him around day by day but he knew Kramer. The man stiffened every time he said his name which inwardly made the con smile.

"That's why you are here. I'm sure in your '_travels_' you met other forgers like yourself. As you well know, the signature of each one is different in style and feeling. _You_ are going to figure out WHO made these so we can bring them to justice."

Neal blinked back at the man, his eyes trying to read more into what he said before he looked back at the one picture he had before him. It was a Waterhouse depicting three Victorian dressed women in light colored dresses around a small pond. The style did not look like anyone he had worked with or met but he was apparently going to have to try to figure out who had done these. With Peter he could have gone out and scoured the streets, talked to Mozzie and had his friend's contacts get back with them. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to get any background on who did this when he was confined to the building.

"Are they all by the same person or different individuals? I'll need all the necessary tools and supplies..."

He was interrupted as the man nodded, hand up as if to squelch his words.

"All coming. I know what you need, Neal. I also understand you will have to talk to people on the street. I have someone I want you to meet who will help you in that area."

This sounded less than comforting, the tone on the last part making him wonder just who he was going to meet up with. Kramer seemed to read his mind, an almost gleeful gleam in his eyes to think he was besting the con. Neal imagined his fist meeting with those eyes if not that chin but he smiled back as naturally as he could. It was almost painful.

**()()()**

The end of the day couldn't come fast enough. Kramer had Neal on a very strict routine, one he had finally started to ingrain in his psyche as he slipped off his shoes at 10 PM in the evening after a nearly 14 hour day of working. He did get the occasional break but Kramer liked to be sure that he wasn't comfortable so he spread them out and made them short. He was fed well, given plenty of time to rest but working 6 to 10 wasn't his idea of equal opportunity practices for employees. It was only himself and Kramer past 6 PM most nights. Other agents left for home, a few he saw every day giving him an almost sympathetic glance but nothing more as they left him. Kramer's power reigned supreme and it was obvious as much as these people might want to help him, they wouldn't for fear of the agent's wrath. He had only seen it day one. An agent named Paulson was a little too friendly with him. Neal had come to work ill, his bright eyes burning with fever but Kramer had insisted he come to the Bureau so he had no choice as he was forcibly escorted by three agents. His face burned as if he were next to a volcano while his body felt like he had that part sitting in the snow in Alaska if not the arctic circle. He had collapsed to the floor in the hallway when Eric Paulson happened to pass by and moved to help him. It was the last time he knew another agent's first name or saw Eric again.

The memory made him feel sick but he pushed the nausea aside to change from work to night clothes and slip into bed. The lamp by his bed gave the room a soft glow he could still read by. He listened for the sound of the agents outside that were watching him. Kramer kept guards on him 24 / 7 like he was a prize show horse he didn't want anyone to steal. Neal sighed, glancing towards the one window he did have. It was reinforced glass so the view wasn't perfectly clear but he could see enough of the sky and city to feel like a fish trapped in a bowl with the ocean just outside. He imagined the view from June's and the inside of his old rooms. She had been one of the people fighting to release him but he had told her not to get involved. Kramer could hurt people if he wanted and the last thing Neal would allow was someone to hurt his friends. June understood but had made it clear she would find a way to free him, Peter present at the time as he helped him pack. Mozzie had not been around but had called before hand to say he was looking for a way out of the situation by other means. He never heard from his friend after that, his correspondences to a minimum with only a few letters here and there. El wrote him once or twice a month, as did June. Sara tried to call but Kramer hung up on her to Neal's dismay. It was a day he had gotten close to hitting the agent. He chased him from the office forgetting or not caring about the alarms he was setting off. Security was on him before he got close enough to lay a finger on the man.

He moved his gaze from the window, putting his book away and turning off the light. The soft glow from the city lights was more than enough security in the darkness but it didn't take away all of his fears. He heard a cell ringing outside and someone speaking low but urgently.

_I'm sorry but this is a secure line._

_No. You cannot talk to Mr. Caffrey._

_I will pass the information on to him once Kramer has approved._

It sounded like the call had ended, the sound of someone moving across the floor pacing.

_Geesh! I know Kramer doesn't want this guy to run but this is bullshit!_

There was silence as the first voice that had spoken on the phone with whomever now spoke to the other agent. There was a corresponding sigh.

_He seems like a good guy to me. Moody but I would be too if I had someone following me 24 / 7. I'm still looking to transfer to Chicago if I get half a chance. Kramer is getting too weird for me. What about you?_

The second man sounded pretty sympathetic as the first man answered back.

_Houston. I can't wait to get away from this crap. Kramer gets results and this Caffrey guy is helping him do it but to what end? I heard... and you didn't hear it from me... He stole him from his own protegee._

Neal sat up and listened to the conversation as much as he could until their voices died down and he heard the first man sounding uncertain about something.

_Tell him. He can't do anything without the key-cards. We can't call Kramer this late about a phone call. He'll transfer us to Siberia faster than you can say "art theft!"_

He heard the men coming closer to his room as he tried to decide what he should do. Should he act awake or asleep? He rolled over onto his side and pulled the blankets over before the door opened and he watched through the corner of his eye two shadows appear.

"Caffrey... You awake?"

Neal didn't move at first, the two men whispering among themselves.

_Voice 1: He's asleep but this is important._

_Voice 2: Nothing he can do whether or not you tell him._

_Voice 1: True..._

They closed the door and the room was once again bathed in cool light from the window. Neal sat up once he knew he was alone and wondered who had called. It must have been someone he knew. Why would they call now when they knew Kramer would just hang up? His mind came up with all kinds of scenarios before he heard them talking again.

_He needs to know, Jack. Caffrey... they were close and she sounded so upset. You didn't hear what I heard._

There was a pause as footsteps paced the room outside and finally stopped.

_Kramer won't let him go. He keeps him isolated. What was the call about that has you so worried, Stan?_

Neal quietly got out of bed and moved closer to the door. He pushed his ear against the cool wooden frame and waited for them to continue.

_Agent Burke... he was shot. That was his wife. She wanted Caffrey to see him._

Neal slid quietly to the floor, ear still planted against the door as he tried not to think about what he'd heard.

_Agent Burke... he was shot._

_Peter..._

His mind was a mess of rapid broken thoughts, his eyes not seeing anything but the last time Peter had been there to help him on the plane to DC. The agent had looked professional but for the watery gleam in his eyes. There was honest emotion in those brown eyes and genuine concern.

_Call me if you need anything._

Peter had whispered but they hadn't realized the scope to which Kramer would go to separate Neal from everyone and everything he cared for. A tear rolled down his cheek in memory but a flush he could only feel made him realize just how much anger he held towards his new keeper. He had to get out of here. Damn going to prison for life! He had to see how Peter was. This was more important than any so called promise he made to Kramer. He had been planning an escape despite his apparent docility.

This apartment was small enough they only had two key-cards for the bedroom (_which had an attached bath_) and the outside door. The rest of the building was open. He would just have to make a run for it outside and cut the anklet. Kramer wasn't going to keep him from seeing his friend. Now he realized El must have been on the other end of that call. How had she known about this number? So many thoughts ran through his head as he planned his escape, eyes closing to sleep the last few hours he would have in captivity.

**(TBC)**

**oOoOoOo**

**Author's Note****:** _Just a little AU I thought of. Figured Kramer would be the evil SOB we all thought and how far would he go to keep Neal? He couldn't fool him could he? Other tactics to keep Neal at bay would have to be initiated and what better than too many key-cards to count? Thanks for reading!_


	28. Cursed WIP

**Menagerie** - A collection of Short Stories and Drabbles in the world of White Collar. (_I don't own anything but I do like playing with the characters when I can._)

**Drabbles #29 **- _Cursed _

(_AU, supernatural, friendship, angst, hurt/comfort, spoilers for all seasons_)

**oOoOoOo**

It started with a nightmare, Neal twitching in his sleep as he lay on his back shaking ever so slightly. His arms seemed to be pinned at his side, although he was free of any fetters, as he fought to move but couldn't, eyes closed tightly.

"No... Please, don't."

He spoke softly, face tight as if he were in pain as the dream continued. Neal looked scared, eyes moving quickly back and forth beneath closed lids before they popped open and he sat up. Sweat beaded his brow, dripping down his temples as he breathed hard and tried to figure out what had happened.

_Nightmares._ They had started recently on their current case, one that reminded him of a heist he had done in his younger days. It was a memory he chose to forget or maybe he just let it fall to the side thinking it would never come to pass but now, the dreams were back.

"_Neal... are you awake?"_

June was at his door calling to him. He slipped out of bed, exhaustion from a night of fitful sleeping and nightmares taking its toll as he tiredly pulled on his robe and padded towards the door. He tried to give himself a quick glance in the mirror on the wall before practicing his morning smile as he opened the door.

"Hey June... kind of early in the morning. What's up?"

She looked tired herself, her normal smile a bit tight.

"Samantha. She's very ill. I need to go to the hospital to be with her. Will you be ok? The staff is off for the weekend. I left numbers of where I will be."

His landlady seemed like she was barely keeping it together as he hugged her gently and nodded.

"I'll be fine. Go be with Samantha. Call me if you need anything, June."

She nodded with a slight smile as they parted and he closed the door. Samantha had been doing so well, her new kidney about to be transplanted in the next week. He wondered if he should go with June as he turned to walk over to the kitchenette and start some coffee. He was up despite the hour, his eyes viewing the clock tiredly: 5 AM. It was Friday but he was off for once, Peter taking a day with Elizabeth to spend time with his wife. Neal had a day to himself and the weekend.

_10 years... you will be cursed for your transgression._

He jumped, turning to see who spoke but nobody was there. He was being silly, Neal shaking his head as he finished setting up the coffee and moved towards the back hallway and the bathroom. He stopped at the walk-in closet and choose a pair of tan khaki pants and a light blue linen shirt. The weather was nice and he wanted to be comfy. Maybe Mozzie was free for something or Sara but she had been busy with her own business lately. They had the occasional dinner date but her job at Sterling-Bosche had been non-stop so he was lucky to see her once a month. He gave a sigh, laying out the clothes he wanted and ducking into the bathroom. He slipped out of the robe and silk pajamas and ducked under the shower, hot water warming him as he closed his eyes.

_Suddenly he found himself underwater, his arms bound at his sides, lungs fighting for air as he was pulled down into the depths, something heavy attached to his tied legs. Neal struggled, the imagery so real in his mind as he fought for the surface and tried to breathe._

_Steal from us and pay the price, thief..._

Neal was still fighting when he came to, his body sore as he found himself on the floor of the shower. There was blood dripping down his temple where he hit his forehead against the tile. He had just been dreaming, his arms bound to his side, his legs were tied to a heavy stone as he sunk deeply into the water, the weight pulling him downwards...

_It was a dream... nothing more._

That's what he thought to himself to push aside the worry. He had just slipped in the tub because he was tired. That heist was ancient history and curses... they didn't exist in the black and white world. He might live in the gray area but curses didn't exist even in his reality. He had been out of it with fever at the time so maybe his mind was just playing out the nightmares because the current case was so similar. He shook off the negative thoughts as he eased back up onto his feet. He was tired. He could go back to sleep technically but he was far from sleepy as he washed the small gash and dried off. He slipped into boxers and a tee, pulling his robe around him as he went out into the main room to finish dressing. There was a certain chill in the air which made him turn around cautiously in the empty room but nothing was there.

"Get a hold of yourself, Neal."

He sighed, pulling on his pants and socks, tucking in his tee and wearing his shirt out for once, half buttoned up as he went onto the terrace and stared out at the wakening city. It was already bright for so early in the morning as he peered at the glimmering buildings. Something bright flashed in his eyes a moment, blinding him. There was a moment he felt weightless before he felt hands grab him and pull him backward, holding him fast. Neal fought for a second, arms wrapped around him but he broke free as he turned and made out the faint outline of Peter Burke through his partially blinded eyes. The sky seemed so much brighter as he focused on his friend.

"Neal... what were you trying to do?"

The agent looked afraid of something, worried and concerned about him but he wasn't sure why, his memory just remembering the flash of light and nothing else until he felt hands grab at him him.

"Peter? What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be with Elizabeth today?"

He felt confused, looking at the clock on the terrace to see it was now almost noon. How had he lost 7 hours or was there more to this. Peter gently grasped his chin, looking directly into his eyes and then let go as Neal struggled to get free, pulling away as the spots before his vision started to fade and he could see better. He didn't like the look he was getting from Peter as if he had done something foolish or perhaps wasn't quite in his right mind.

"She's home with the flu. Not sure how but she woke up feeling poorly so she's in bed. El said I should come and see you. I'm glad she did..."

Neal still didn't understand why his friend was acting so strangely. He had just been looking over the side of the terrace. There was nothing else to say as he tried to figure out what was bothering Peter.

"Go take care of your wife, Peter. I'm fine."

He suddenly had this feeling he wanted to be alone, a sternness to his voice he didn't mean to express as he watched Peter gazed at him with that worried look again.

"I'll go if you tell me one thing..."

There was a certain tone there Neal found strange, narrowing his glance at his friend as the agent paused.

"Peter... what's wrong with you? You didn't just come here because Elizabeth told you to."

The agent shook his head.

"No, I did come because El said so. Neal... why were you standing on the ledge of the terrace?"

The tone of voice was concerned, worry evident but the words were what shocked him more. Standing on the ledge? Peter must be crazy to think... Suddenly something flashed in his mind, the bright light and slowly a voice in the background.

_You are cursed. Nothing can save you from what your fate. Those around you will suffer loss until we are appeased._

He could suddenly see the cars below as if he had stood up higher than normal. It was only a flash of memory before Neal felt dizzy, strong hands keeping him upright until he found himself slumped back in a chaise lounge, Peter looking down at him even more worriedly.

"Something's wrong. Tell what's going on, Neal."

Peter had his phone in his hand but he hadn't started to dial yet when it rang, his eyes widening in surprise as he answered.

"El? Hun... what's..."

The agent looked upset, ignoring Neal for the moment. The con was still recovering from the odd voice he had heard in his head and the feeling he wasn't in control of himself but seeing his friend upset made him curious. Peter started for the door but he grasped the agent's sleeve, the agent stopping short.

"El... something wrong. I need to go home."

Peter looked devastated but he didn't immediately pull away as Neal nodded, standing up and finding he was feeling a bit more himself. His worry for his friends gave him strength.

"Let me go with you."

Neal wanted to help, feeling badly he hadn't gone with June when he had the chance but not wanting to leave Peter in his time of need. The agent nodded, grabbing him by the arm briefly as they headed for the door. Neal grabbed up his jacket, phone, keys and wallet as they exited. He felt his phone buzz in his pocket, picking it up as they approached Peter's Taurus.

"June? What's wrong..."

She sounded upset, the young man trying to hear her words as he slipped into the car and saw Peter staring at him curiously. The agent had his phone attached to the dash now, phoning a doctor it looked like with the hands-free option.

"I'm with Peter. How is Samantha?"

He kept nodding, listening as she told him what had happened. He felt the color drain from his cheeks as Peter glanced over. Neal didn't know what to think as he listened.

"I'll be there soon."

Neal hung up reluctantly, brown eyes meeting his as he turned and saw Peter in the middle of his own emergency.

"I just called our physician. He's going to meet us at the house. What's wrong with June's granddaughter?"

Peter looked worried despite his concern for Elizabeth and Neal himself.

"Samantha's very sick. It was sudden so she's at the hospital waiting to see what can be done. Her fever spiked up to 105."

He saw Peter blink, the frown on his face deepening as he heard the news and nodded, starting up the car.

"Let me check on Elizabeth first then I'll take you to the hospital to visit June."

Peter started up the car and took off, Neal nodding back in reply as he leaned back against the seat and stared out the window. June had sounded so upset but he couldn't blame her. Her granddaughters were her life. He hoped Samantha would pull through as he felt himself falling asleep, eyes heavy as he watched the passing city.

_Discord will follow you wherever you go until the payment has been made._

The voice whispered coldly in his head, Neal turning to find he was no longer in the car but sitting in a dimly lit stone room. He wasn't afraid or surprised, standing up from the stone step he sat on and using a small lantern to guide his way. He had been here before, a place he had forgotten about amongst the many heists he had performed. He walked through the semi-darkness and slowly a pedestal appeared in the ring of light from his lantern, an ornate box sat on top. This wasn't why he was here but he was lost and tired, only instinct and greed leading him on. He gingerly reached for the box, an energy washing off of the item as his hands touched it. It was locked but that would soon be fixed. He pulled out his picks, fiddling with the heavy lock when a hand touched his shoulder and he turned to see Peter staring at him.

"Neal? You sure you're ok?"

The agent was giving him a worried look but he just nodded, his usual smile firmly in place. They had parked but he had been unaware of much of the trip as he had dreamed of the past.

"Just tired. Give me a moment?"

The agent nodded before exiting the vehicle and heading up the stairs to his home. There was a man already waiting there by the door, graying dark brown hair in a white polo and black pants. That must be the doctor he thought, a large black leather bag in their hands. They entered the home, Peter only looking back briefly at Neal before they disappeared inside. Neal thought about what he had been dreaming about as he finally released his seat-belt and slipped out of the vehicle. His mind was thinking about June's granddaughter and Elizabeth both being ill. It was an odd coincidence, his mind going back to what the voice said.

_You are cursed. Nothing can save you from what your fate. Those around you will suffer loss until we are appeased._

The words rolled around in his brain, a flash of light off a window momentarily disorienting him until finally he came to, the sound of a car honking loudly as it woke him from his reverie. He turned to see a taxi heading straight for him as he quickly ran from the street and back to the safety of the sidewalk before the Burke home. How had he ended up in the road? Something was wrong with him, his memory fuzzy to several things as he finally moved up to the stoop and entered his friend's home. The door was unlocked as he peered inside and saw Satchmo was absent. Neal felt a strange chill in the air as he had at June's, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end.

"Peter?"

He made his way to the stairs, looking at all the pictures of his friends happily smiling back as he slowly walked up each step. The cold chill seemed to increase the closer he got to the top. Neal walked down the short hallway towards the Burke bedroom, a room he had only been in once when he had gotten the copy of the manifest. It was something he still hadn't admitted to Peter, his shame at what he had done still bothering him.

_Your goodwill cannot help until your fate has been passed..._

The voice spoke from nearby, Neal turning to see the figure of a woman, dark and veiled passing into the same room he heard Peter talking in.

"El? Wake up... What's wrong with her? Why isn't she waking up... El, hun?"

His friend sounded despondent, upset as Neal walked over to the open door uncertain of what he might see as the chill grew and he shivered slightly. The dark figure joined another by the beautifully linened bed Elizabeth Burke lay slumped upon. Her hair lay messily around her face as Peter crouched beside his wife and tried to wake her. Neal wasn't sure he was seeing the two dark figures or just imagining them, two more he knew were real distracting him as the older grayer man spoke.

"Her fever is very high. I'm going to call the hospital to send over some IVs and other monitors. I don't think it's safe to move her while she's in this state but I will make sure one of my assistants stays to monitor her when I have to go."

The man's voice was calm with only a hint of concern and confusion. Elizabeth had been healthy only two days ago when Neal had seen her visiting at the office. There had been nothing wrong with her and now suddenly she was ill, the two dark female figures hovering around her. Peter and the doctor didn't seem to see them as he moved closer and heard one of them hiss back. He hesitated only a moment, reaching out for the one that gently caressed El's forehead, the woman twitching ever so slightly as they repeated the action. It seemed to be hurting her. He moved to pull them away and as his hand touched hers, he felt something cold, darkness washing over him like a tidal wave. Neal couldn't stand the feeling of nothingness as he yanked his hand away, Peter staring up at him curiously.

"Neal? She won't wake up... Elizabeth..."

The agent didn't seem to notice how he was staring at the dark figures and not El, black abysmal orbs gazing coldly back at him from the spectres' faces. He felt a certain pull there, one woman's hand reaching for his now while the other took her place near Elizabeth's bedside.

_Accept your fate, thief. Don't let others suffer for your sins..._

She held out her hand but he shrunk back, the other one continuing to caress the fevered brow of Elizabeth. She was paling by the moment but he was uncertain what was going on.

"I can't..."

Neal turned to run from the room when he saw Satchmo laying in the corner. Suddenly the dog started to growl at him, sounding less like the sweet lab and more like a wolf. Peter turned briefly, surprise on his face as he saw what was going on.

"Satch?"

The dog kept growling, Neal looking from the doctor and Peter uncertain what was happening. Something cold wrapped itself around him, a hand touching his neck.

_Selfish man... your friends suffer when you should._

Neal felt the cold seeping into him, eyes rolling back as he collapsed to the floor. Satch continued to growl at him but now he realized the dog was looking behind him but it was too late. A cold hand continued to caress his cheek, a rush of feelings and memories of all the worse things flashing before his eyes until his mind could take no more and he passed out.

**(TBC)**

**Author's Note****:**_ Little something that came to me. Let me know if you like. I might just continue this. :)_


	29. Returning wip

**Menagerie** - A collection of Short Stories and Drabbles in the world of White Collar. (_I don't own anything but I do like playing with the characters when I can._)

**Drabbles #30 **- _Returning_

(_AU, mystery, sci-fi, friendship, angst, hurt/comfort, spoilers for all seasons. Based in part off the Japanese movie: "Be with You."_)

**oOoOoOo**

It had been sudden, Neal disappearing in a the blink of an eye as Peter yelled, the gunman shooting first before the agent could even register. He had done it for him, something off when he went back to see why Neal hadn't met him at the spot they had picked. It had been a simple assignment and now... Neal Caffrey was gone.

_Hours..._

_Days..._

_Weeks..._

They passed by in a blur and every day he tried to go looking for his friend until Reese and everyone else banned him from the site and still he went back against their wishes until he was hospitalized for exhaustion and stress. Neal was gone. He wasn't coming back. He hadn't left on a trip. The con hadn't escaped. He was just... gone. No body, no signs other than a shoe and part of a cuff in the water below. Only the smallest of forensic evidence where he had fallen when the cliff crumbled and his body had collapsed back, face calm to the swiftly moving river below. It was a miracle Peter hadn't killed the man who did it, only disarming him with one shot but Jones had been there and that had been the only force keeping him from physically harming the murderer of his friend and partner as he gazed over the cliff side. Rain fell on them but he didn't care, drops trickling down his face and eyelashes in a cold spray.

_Neal. _

His mind was only thinking of his friend.

"Boss..."

He turned at the sound of a familiar voice, eyes searching hers for some solace.

"Neal... we have to find him."

Diana looked as lost as he did, her eyes turning to glance at Jones and the other agents who were there now booking the man who had caused all of this. There were no words to be said, her hands holding him securely, wrapping around him with a blanket as he shivered and felt like crying but no tears would come. Neal was gone.

He woke up from the memory, pulse racing, breath hitching some as he glanced over at the clock and saw it was only 2 AM. He gazed beside him and saw an empty space, the blanket pushed aside where his wife had been. A sudden panic rose in him and he left the bed without a moment's thought, moving out into the hallway and seeing El coming out the bathroom, a surprised look on her face when he hugged her tightly.

"Hun... Peter, what's the matter?"

He continued to hold her, thinking if he had lost her too but he hadn't. Neal had kept her with him, giving up the treasure. Neal had always been there to help when he needed it and suddenly he felt like there was a gaping hole waiting to swallow him up.

"Nothing... I just missed you."

Peter knew she didn't believe him but he didn't care, holding on to her as they walked back to the bedroom and she curled up beside him.

"It's ok, hun. We'll get through this."

**(TBA)**

**Author's Note****: **_Something I was working on but put aside. Still trying to figure out how to make it work. Just a piece in a larger puzzle I haven't finished mapping out yet. Let me know if you like!_


	30. SmokeandMirrors wip

**Menagerie** - A collection of Short Stories and Drabbles in the world of White Collar. (_I don't own anything but I do like playing with the characters when I can._)

**Drabbles #30 **- _Smoke and Mirrors_

(_AU, Gen, angst, suspense, spoilers for all seasons_)

**oOoOoOo**

Peter felt his phone vibrate, eyes looking across the street at the deli facing the Federal Building. It was lunchtime and he was hungry, moving to wait at the light for it to change to walk as he pulled his cell from his pocket.

"Neal, I'm not getting you liver pate. The deli doesn't sell it and it stinks worse than any complaints you might have on my deviled ham. Was there anything else you were calling about?"

Neal had been bothering him about getting something foofy from the deli but Peter had taken everyone's orders, the CI showing up late from running an errand for the agent. He heard a sigh, his eyes catching that the light had changed as he headed across the street.

"_Turkey club then. Dijon mustard, red onions and no pickles. Thanks Pet..._"

The agent felt someone yank him back, a car flying past where he had just been standing as his phone went flying from his hand and hit the asphalt with a terrible cracking sound. His heart was beating faster than he thought from both being manhandled by his mystery savior and the fact he had almost been killed by a car going through the red light. The car was gone before he could get plates, eyes looking over into hazel ones.

"I'm sorry about your phone... They were about to hit you."

He man seemed sincere, pale as he was and worried but more so there was something familiar about the man he couldn't quite place his finger on as he felt a little sick at the thought of what had almost happened. He'd been distracted by the call from Neal and this man had saved his life. His phone was last on his list of things to think about.

"Thank you, Mr..."

The man smiled, helping him pick up the pieces of the phone as they hurriedly walked the last few yards before the light changed and stood outside the deli on the sidewalk. The man was fairly nondescript, light blondish brown hair, pale peaches and cream complexion but with a clean cut look like someone who worked in an office or was an accountant. He was about as unassuming as you could get looks wise.

"Jameson. Derek Jameson... I just realized... you're Agent Burke aren't you?"

Peter stiffened slightly, something about the man's tone making him suspicious but Jameson held up his hands in an inoffensive manner.

"You don't remember me... this is very awkward. I... how do I say this and not cause an issue..."

The man looked embarrassed, a blush on his pale cheeks before he held out a hand and introduced himself again.

"You probably know me better as Eric James. You caught me on embezzling about 5 years ago..."

The man's voice trailed off, his manner hesitant but still friendly, the flush to his cheeks still evident. Suddenly Peter nodded, realization coming to him. Eric James. He had arrested him just after he put Neal away. The man had stolen millions from his clients, using the money for personal reasons. Jameson had been angry, yelling at him at the trial about killing his wife. The man's wife had died of complications from not getting a much needed surgery, the money needed for her but it wasn't his to keep. Peter felt a flush on his own cheeks now as he started to remember the why and when. A hand gently touched his shoulder and he saw Jameson smiling at him.

"I was angry. I... I hope you understand that. I've moved on."

The man seemed sincere, pulling his hand away as he glanced at the ground then back up but not directly into Peter's eyes. There was an uncomfortable silence between them before Jameson spoke again.

"I'm glad you're ok, Agent Burke. Sorry to have kept you from your lunch. Have a... a good day."

Peter wasn't sure how to react. He had almost been killed by a speeding car but saved by a man who he had personally put in prison. When he finally came back to himself he saw that Jameson was already long gone, several yards down the sidewalk and disappearing into a cab. The man had pulled him from danger, saving his life despite having lost his wife because of the agent arresting him. There was a guilty feeling despite knowing he had done the right thing. Jameson had done what he did to help his dying wife. There was no denying he had committed a crime but this person he saw today had been different. The angry, vengeful man he'd put away seemed almost repentant and thankful towards Peter. It reminded him of when he caught Neal and had been thanked for finding Kate. Jameson might be a few years older but just like Caffrey, prison and time had healed most of the man's wounds and anger.

"Peter?"

The agent looked up to see Neal there, a desperate look on his face as if he were curious about something if not worried.

"Neal, what are you doing here?"

He was still confused by everything that had just happened, the consultant looking at him funny.

"I came to check on you. What happened?"

Peter was still in a bit of shock by all of it but still uncertain he wanted to discuss it yet.

"Later... I still haven't gotten lunch."

**(TBC)**

**oOoOoOo**

**Author's Note****:** _A little something percolating in my head. I won't spoil but there is a where and a why to this if I finish it up._


	31. Counterfeit WIP

**Menagerie** - A collection of Short Stories and Drabbles in the world of White Collar. (_I don't own anything but I do like playing with the characters when I can._)

**Drabbles #31 **- _Counterfeit_

(_AU, spoilers for all seasons, whump, evil Peter_)

**Summary:** _What if Peter wasn't who he pretends to be? Maybe the story to his helping Neal is more than the surface. Darker version of things in the White Collar Universe._

**oOoOoOo**

Peter walked into his bedroom, heading towards the nightstand to grab up his cell phone for the day. He heard voices below, laughter from his wife and another more deeper voice. He smiled to himself realizing his partner had showed up early today. The agent rolled his eyes slightly wondering what had brought his partner in so early when the phone rang, Peter grabbing up the cell, eyes not recognizing the number as he picked up.

"Burke..."

There was silence a moment then a hint of breath on the other end before someone spoke.

"_Been a long time, Peter._"

The voice was quiet, calm and somewhat cool as the agent sat down heavily upon the end of his bed. This was a voice he hadn't expected to hear so soon, eyes glancing over at the open bedroom door.

"Simon... This is a surprise. It's not time already is it?"

He felt a certain nervousness about the call, knowledge as to why the man was calling making him feel a bit tense. It had been 6 years since the first call was made and he had obligated himself to the cause. He hadn't understood all the facts right then but over time it had made sense why they were doing what they did. Besides, his uncle had asked the favor of him and the man was someone he could never say no to.

"_No Peter, it's not time but with Miss Parker's death things are beginning to escalate. I heard there was a video..._"

The agent was surprised the man knew so much but his uncle had always had a hand in many pies and connections in all sorts of organizations he shouldn't have underestimated what he would know. He nodded his head.

"There is. I haven't seen it yet but when I do I will let you know what's on it. It's from Miss Parker directly through the Marshals from what I've been told. His _friend_ came to me and let me know about it. He's been a very valuable asset despite his paranoid tendencies."

Peter heard the sound of a chair squeaking in the background and something like a keyboard being typed on before a low beep caught his attention. His uncle was in his office or study on the PC.

"_Yes... He thinks he's off the radar but our files on him have been very accurate and reliable. If he were just an ordinary citizen I might help him find his real parents..._"

The man's voice was coldly bemused on the last comment, Peter feeling a slight chill despite himself. His uncle had always been his hero, a force to be reckoned with from his youth. His father had always admired the man for his sense of self and strength. The man was ruthless in his pursuits at best or worse.

"He's quirky if anything. So... what is it you want me to do? I'm guessing this isn't a social call."

He heard a soft chuckle on the other end, Simon's voice anything but comforting yet Peter had learned to admire the man's forcefulness as his father had. It had helped him get where he was today even if it didn't appear that way. Simon was an expert manipulator, Peter having learned from the best and it had helped him with his current assignment in more ways than he could admit.

"_No but I'm guessing your charge is there? We will talk again soon, Peter._"

Simon's voice was almost ominous in his tone, something in his uncle's manner making him shiver at the hint of danger there. There must be a move happening soon and for once, Peter wasn't ready for it much as he thought he would be. 6 years was a long time to be on an assignment and not be contacted. His life had changed during that time and where as he was working on the plan, things had a way of going awry and changing. El had been a surprise he really hadn't expected despite wanting to please his uncle and do this job for him.

"Peter... hun?"

He glanced up to see Elizabeth standing there, her blue eyes looking at him curiously as she smiled. He still had the cell in his hand, his uncle having hung up without so much as a good-bye. It was typical of Simon not to be courteous in that manner unless he was working a deal. Peter found himself trying to do the opposite to keep up appearances, the manner of saying Hello and Good-bye second nature now where it hadn't been before.

"Sorry, was just getting my phone. Is that Neal I hear downstairs?"

He stood, walking over to kiss and hug his wife. She was definitely not something he had expected to find during his assignment, his family less than happy for the distraction but when Simon realized her added value to the job he had approved wholeheartedly. Neal liked El and that was a plus where his work was easier than it could be.

"Yes, he's making breakfast for us. You hungry?"

She was smiling still, her arm wrapping around his waist as he did the same to hers and they started downstairs. Whatever was being cooked it smelled delicious, Peter always amazed that the young man had such talents as cooking but he was a con. You learned what you did to get a job done and sometimes you gained some real skills during a job. Peter always wondered if this was one said talent or something Neal had developed on his own. He was learning more about his charge than he had before, hoping the video would pan out.

"Definitely and that scent is delicious... is he trying to butter me up for something?"

He watched his wife's reaction to his comment as non-committal, smiling at him with an understanding glance.

"I think he's just trying to impress you and me. He was flipping eggs in the air like a pro."

**(TBC)**

**Author's Note:** _A darker fiction that just kind of came to me. I almost feel a need to finish it and see where it goes. Could you see an AU with an evil Peter? I'm not sure how evil I'd make him but there are ideas my muse threw at me. She's been breeding plot bunnies like tribbles._


	32. Forgotten wip

**Menagerie** - A collection of Short Stories and Drabbles in the world of White Collar. (_I don't own anything but I do like playing with the characters when I can._)

**Drabbles #32 **- _Forgotten _(_suspense, mystery, friendship, angst, hurt/comfort, spoilers for all seasons_)

**oOoOoOo**

Peter was tired, his head full of thoughts on the latest case files and his partner. He gave a quiet sigh, smiling slightly as his hand felt in his jacket pocket and pulled out a small sky blue envelope. Neal was home sick, the con having caught whatever was going around the office. Peter had already been there so he was surprised when his friend who rarely seemed to catch cold started showing symptoms of the flu. This was a _get well_ card from the office. Almost everyone had gone through the same thing even Jones although Diana had managed to resist. He was going to pick up some wonton soup and dumplings on the way home and drop them off for his friend and partner. Neal might be off for a few days but he needed to pick his brain on a case or two that required his expertise. Plus the fact he wanted to see how his friend was feeling. El was also out of town so he was alone at home, Satchmo probably waiting for him to give him a walk. The agent gave a double sigh, hoping the three days his wife was away would end quickly as he walked up to his car deep in thought.

"Agent Burke... do you have a moment?"

Peter paused, pushing the card into his pocket as he turned to see a seasoned looking agent he didn't recognize by name. He had seen the man's picture somewhere before in the directory but at the moment a name escaped him as he gazed curiously but politely at the salt and peppery haired man in his 50s. The man was about his height, wearing a dark blue suit, swarthy with light brown eyes that seemed genuinely friendly towards him.

"I do..."

He paused, waiting for the man to introduce himself, the agent holding out a hand as he took it.

"Agent James... Alistair James."

Now he knew where he knew the man from, Peter feeling a slight bit of dread as the man smiled at him in a friendly manner. He sensed nothing bad but Agent James was head of OPR in New York and not a man someone meddled with although he sensed the man was not there for anything more than a visit... he hoped.

"Agent James... Sir. I had no idea you were in town. What's the occasion?"

He saw the man mouth "_Caffrey_" before he glanced around, eyes seemingly taking in their surroundings with some caution before meeting his again.

"Could I interest you in a cup of coffee, Agent Burke? There's a nice cafe a few blocks from here. We could take my vehicle..."

The tone of the man's voice seemed to indicate they were being watched if not followed but Peter still wasn't sure what was going on as he moved away from his car and nodded with his own cautiousness. His gut was telling him the man was trying to protect him from something, no malevolence in his manner.

"Sure, Alistair. _Call me Peter_."

Peter kept his voice low as they walked from the garage, the agent trusting he was in good hands as they acted casual but talked low enough to hide what they were speaking about. He felt his phone buzz in his pocket, pulling it out as they approached a black sedan, Peter seeing it was Jones calling him.

"Give me a second..."

He moved aside, a good 10 feet from the car as he watched Alistair out of the corner of his eye, his attention on the call.

"_Boss..._"

That was all he heard, something loud deafening him from the direction of the sedan, heat and light burning and blinding him as the blast tossed himagainst the nearby building and his head connected against brick and mortar, stunning him a moment. He lay there watching, blankly staring at what remained of the black sedan, remains of the other agent smoldering where they had held the car door in their now blackened hands. Peter came back to himself, something in him wanting to help the agent despite seeing them dead but another explosion threw him back against the wall again, the base of his skull connecting this time to something hard as he felt nothingness overcome him as if he had wakened from an odd dream.

_Where..._

His mind was blank but for a name and hint of face staring back at him. There were blue eyes, dark wavy hair and... His head hurt as he tried to remember more, looking around to find he was sitting in the back of a cab now but not knowing how he got there.

"Buddy... you ok? Where on Riverside Drive did you want to go?"

The driver spoke to him with a thick Brooklyn accent, a youngish guy with reddish hair and green eyes. He wasn't he man he had seen in his memory, what he could recall of it.

"Riverside Drive? I..."

Suddenly in his memory he saw a note, a man with a thick white beard and moustache with a ping pong paddle handing it to him with a smirk on his face.

_Snake eyes... he left you a note._

_**Dear Peter,**_

_**I have moved 1.5 miles.**_

_**87 Riverside Drive...**_

Suddenly he felt the vehicle moving as if it were turning the red headed man nodding to him from the front.

"87 Riverside Drive it is then. Are you sure you don't need a doctor?"

**()()()**

Neal sneezed then sneezed again, tissue in his hand and around him where he had dumped them in a messy pile. He was miserable if anything and wishing he hadn't caught that damnable flu everyone had passed around the office. June had left him alone for the afternoon to visit her family, Neal insisting he was fine as he declined the offer of her keeping the maid to help him out. The house was quiet but for his own sneezing and coughing as he eased himself out of bed and walked over to the kitchenette for some water and more meds. Maybe Mozzie was right about the "Suits" taking him down although in this case it would be by random illness than any criminal caper he might pull off.

He went back to the bed and cleaned up the mess of tissues, hoping to make himself some soup if not hot tea before laying down again, when he heard the doorbell ring. If it had been Mozzie, his friend would have found a way to come in quietly with his own key although he never used it. June had given it to the little guy as a backup or emergency key for Neal or if something unforeseen arose. Plus it wasn't in iambic pentameter so he could rule out Mozzie below as he ignored the ring as some random door to door salesperson and continued his small spurt of cleaning.

After he had started making the hot water for tea he realized he was out of actual tea bags, pulling on his robe as he left the room and headed downstairs. His head ached, body hurting some and he was still a bit delirious with fever. The walk down made him feel more dizzy but he wanted tea so he had to look through the kitchen below. He would pay June back later, wiping at his face which was sweaty and warm with the sleeve of his robe. His eyes moved to look at the front door, the shadows deepening outside as evening fell, as he reached the first floor and noticed something odd. The door was covered with metal grillwork and bars, partially for protection and decoration per June's late husband Byron. Part of the grillwork was darker than others near the lower part of the glass entranceway, Neal moving closer to see what had been left on the stoop. Maybe the ring was from a courier, the con moving towards the door a bit more before he noticed it wasn't a box on the stoop. Neal was trying to figure out what to do being alone and less than stellar in his health as he opened up the door and glanced down at the person slumped against the entrance.

**()()()**

Peter felt a ringing in his ears and head, his body aching but he felt he had to keep going. The cab driver finally slowed the vehicle, looking back at him and at what looked to be a very swanky brown stone he couldn't imagine visiting. There was a flash of someone in a fedora, blue eyes sparkling back at him and his voice speaking.

_Cappuccino in the clouds..._

He perked up at the thought, the person's face a bit clearer. He still didn't have a name but the note from his memory. The man had said "Snake eyes" but what did that mean? He thought of the term in relation to playing dice or craps but it still made little sense to him. It was two 1's on a die together... something unlucky.

"We're here."

Peter nodded tiredly, handing the man some money before exiting the vehicle with a slight groan. He glanced down to see his pant leg was slightly torn, a hint of blood there. He must have hurt himself but he wasn't sure how as he limped away from the vehicle, the cabbie watching him a moment before taking off. Peter limped up the few steps taking in the almost castle-like structure of the home. There were small eves almost turret-like in their appearance with colorful stained glass windows with bars over them for protection. The house was old if anything, probably from the prohibition times if he had to guess but very well kept. He could only guess who lived here, his mind drawing a blank as he moved towards the door and pushed the bell. There was no answer, his legs giving out as he slumped to the stoop and sat down, head leaning against the entrance. He just needed to rest a moment, catch his breath, remember...

"Peter? Hey..."

The voice didn't sound too familiar but it wasn't totally alien to him, something about the tone off but he knew it even if he wasn't sure from where. A slightly clammy hand touched his neck, feeling for a pulse he thought before a nasally sigh of relief reached him, his eyes wanting to open but too tired to do so at the moment. He was content to stay there on the stoop and rest, body starting to shut down from his injuries but a slight nudging made him wake up, eyes looking upwards at a blurry figure there. Were they in pajamas?

"Peter... what happened? You're... you're bleeding... Come on..."

The figure hesitantly crouched beside him, the sound of their breathing not so good like they had a cold as their arm reached around and under his own, lifting him to his feet and they walked inside. The door slammed slightly behind them, the figure kicking it closed as they walked a bit further and he was laid upon a dark red sofa, something underneath him like a throw or blanket.

"Peter... talk to me. What happened?"

Their voice was worried, the tone genuine although something told him it hadn't always been that way.

_You're an FBI agent... I'm a con man..._

The voice was the same, although a bit less nasally as he heard the memory of those words in his head and finally passed out.

**()()()**

Neal didn't know what to think once he had brought his friend indoors, blood on his robe and hands now as he half carried the agent into June's house and lay him across the sofa on a throw. He would wash the blood out later but for now he had to figure out what had happened and why Peter was hurt. The agent had waken up for a moment, stared up at him with a blank glassy stare before those brown eyes now mostly black closed and his friend had passed out. Peter must have been at work so why had he showed up here at June's? What had brought his friend and partner to him and was it safe to call anyone else on this. Was Jones and Diana hurt as well? What had happened? He sneezed, using his sleeve as temporary hanky as he tried to figure out what to do. First he went and locked the front door, pacing a moment in the foyer before moving back to his friend and making sure Peter was ok. The agent was breathing normally but his pulse was faster than it should be, Neal finally coming to himself as he went into the other room and found the first aid kit June kept in the kitchen utility room and brought it back. There were no major injuries he could see but Peter was fairly beat up and bruised, a gash over his left temple and a large bump at the base of his skull which would explain the dilated eyes. He cleaned up his friend's injuries and bandaged him up as best he could, finally washing up before he called the one person he thought he could trust.

"_The man in the street is always a stranger. (Mason Cooley)_"

The line was quiet after that until he coughed.

"Mozz it's me... I need to you to... to... "

He sneezed again, several times until finally he heard his friend over the phone again.

"_Not if you're sounding like that. I've been illness free for 5 years for a reason and I'm not about to end my streak now._"

Neal finally stopped sneezing, wiping his nose on his robe because had nothing else as he sucked in a breath and tried to sound less ill than he was.

"Peter's hurt."

There was silence again and then a slight intake of breath, footsteps evident in the background.

"_Does El know and what does this have to do with you being sick and me coming over, Neal?_"

Mozzie was moving around in the background, the sound of a freight elevator evident. Neal gave a phlegmy cough before answering.

"He just showed up on June's doorstep. I heard the bell, I'm alone but when I came down for some tea... he was just there. I need help. He's hurt badly, Mozz."

Neal glanced back at his friend, the agent looking worse for wear but still resting quietly as he paced around the room and tried to be calm. Being sick didn't help nor did the slight fever he had from this flu. Finally he heard a sigh on the other end and the sound of a door and more footsteps.

"_Fine... I'll be there soon. I'll see if I can't get Tiny to come along for the ride. I'm guessing this is hush hush if you're not contacting Elizabeth._"

Neal thought about it and realized Peter had called him the other day to say that El was going to be out of town for the week. The agent was alone and he had no idea how he had been hurt either or if someone had been with him. Had it been an ambush?

"Just come quickly. Don't tell anyone."

**(TBC)**

**Author's note:** _Just a little something floating around in my skull. Hopefully I'll post a full story soon. Too many plot bunnies to wrangle at the moment and the Mid-Season finale just added more. :P_


	33. Switcharoo

**Menagerie** - A collection of Short Stories and Drabbles in the world of White Collar. (_I don't own anything but I do like playing with the characters when I can._)

**Drabbles #33 **- _Switcharoo _(_suspense, mystery, friendship, angst, hurt/comfort, reference to "__Power Play__"_)

**250 Words**

**oOoOoOo**

The man's eyes were steely gray, hands lifting him off his feet before dragging Neal away. His eyes gave a last look at an unconscious Peter before he was pushed into a chair and given some kind of drug. He fought the effects, making himself stay in character, taking the punches, hits, and giving them the information they had rehearsed. In the end, a knife was stabbed into his shoulder as they left them there. At some point he blacked out.

"Neal?"

He gazed up from his hospital bed, Peter looking down at him worriedly, a small gash on his left temple, 5 stitches evident. There was something in Peter's hand which he gave to Neal.

"When were you going to tell me about this?"

It was Neal's consultant's badge, the face blanked out. Peter pulled out his own badge to show a picture of Neal there. The con shrugged with a wince from his shoulder, the agent nodding back.

"I thought being you would be easier. Apparently... I was wrong."

He smiled slightly, Peter nodding back. It was evident Peter was worried about him. Neal knew if they'd thought Peter was a Fed, they'd have killed him. It had only been last minute he had switched badges. Caffrey was a known con and the crook's MO was they didn't hurt their own. Burke on the other hand was a Fed. They didn't know who was which so Neal had done the only thing he could for his friend's safety.

**oOoOoOo**

**Author's Note****:** _Didn't realize the __White Collar LAS__ was in the 2nd part of the first round and I wrote this for what was coming up. Can't play there until they finish up however many rounds it is. Anywho... going to post this here since I wrote it and I like it and it's one of the shortest things I have written related to White Collar. The prompt was "__**Someone else's shoes.**__"_


	34. Not What you Thought

**Menagerie** - A collection of Short Stories and Drabbles in the world of White Collar. (_I don't own anything but I do like playing with the characters when I can._)

**Drabbles #34 **- _Not what you thought_

(_friendship, hurt/comfort, amnesia, spoilers for all seasons_)

**oOoOoOo**

The right side of his chest hurt, his head aching as he sat up and glanced around. There was blood around him but mostly it was soaked into his shirt and clothing, his jacket ruined he thought as he noticed the bullet wound to his shoulder. There was a hole in the material and it was expensive... something special... Armani was the brand now that he remembered, looking down at the red and blue tie and seeing it was also very expensive and stained by more red. Still his mind kept going, analyzing and reporting what it could see although his mind was a blank. It was more than his clothing and the blood that caught his eye as he glanced over at his left ankle.

The tracker was green which meant he was within his radius or he was working. That's right, when he was on the clock it would always be green unless he left the city proper. Now everything made more sense although why he was lying out in a side street behind the Fifth National Bank of Albania did not. There was a dark van not more than 10 yards away, sacks of what looked like money sitting against one tire as he pushed himself up to his feet and stumbled towards it and the open entrance nearby. It was a fire exit but the alarm wasn't tripped so someone had turned it off or cut the wires. He glanced into the open doorway, ducking back as a man speaking some other language passed him by on a cell. He slipped inside quietly when nobody else followed and the man continued without looking back, his manner distracted.

"He wouldn't talk, the agent stubborn but then you did kill his partner. You should have used him as collateral."

There was a pause, the man making affirmation sounds as if listening to another person before he spoke again.

"Still don't understand why they are here. Nobody was supposed to know. The bank is shut down for the week."

The man he passed on the cell had a heavily accented voice as he slinked about in the shadowy halls and saw an open door, light pouring out in a small chink through the shadows. He edged closer, ducking into another open door when someone stepped out.

"Oli? Damn building gives me the creeps... Lucky we're almost done. He's not going anywhere. Come help me fill up the van."

He heard footsteps move by slowly and then fade off towards the back door he had entered. Once they were gone he slipped out of the closet, a dimly lit supply room with cash register tape and forms among other things. He checked out the hallway which fortunately was empty as he moved back towards the door and slipped inside.

The room was a large empty office with just a chair and desk, the chair a large wooden one and it was occupied by a dark haired man slumped forward and away from him. They were tied up, wrists secured behind them with zip ties. He noticed there was a phone on the desk. He closed and locked the door, jamming something into the lock to keep it from being opened before he moved closer to the figure and saw blood splattered on their white shirt, face still turned away from him as he suddenly realized what the other figures had said. They were talking about _Peter_. This must be Peter Burke, his partner. That made him... he was _Neal Caffrey_. It all came back to him now as he gave his ankle a quick look and moved to find something to free the agent and get help there fast. He searched the desk and found a dull looking pair of scissors, using them first to remove his anklet, the light going red and a quiet beep letting him know someone would come looking. Neal moved quickly towards the figure of his partner, moving to cut him loose, the zip-tie popping free and the limp body slumping out of the chair as the con man moved to catch him.

"_**Who's in there!?**__ Find a key!_"

They were banging on the door, the metal vibrating but this was obviously a more secure door than some of the others in the building. It would take them some time to get through and by then hopefully the cavalry would have arrived. He glanced down to see how Peter was and gasped. He was looking at his own face, the figure of Neal Caffrey there but it made no sense as he froze for a moment uncertain what was going on. He had a nice suit on... he had on the anklet... he... he...

The banging grew louder and he heard a low groan, two blue eyes peering up at him after a moment from beneath dark brown wavy hair . There was blood on their face, their usually perfect nose covered in clotted red dripping down to a split lip also dark with blood. A weak smile formed on those lips and he heard a cough before they spoke in a raspy familiar voice.

"_P... eeter..._"

The voice was weak but he heard the name, uncertain how to react, turning as the banging stopped and he heard what sounded like sirens coming closer. Muffled voices spoke outside and he heard panicked footsteps leaving then more voices and the sirens were closer. A hand grasped his and he glanced down to see that face he thought was his looking up at him curiously.

"_P..._"

Neal slumped in his arms, eyes closing and that's when the man who thought he was a con man remembered who he was.

**(TBC)**

**Author's Note****:** _Just an idea I had. What if Peter thought he was Neal. I have an explanation for the anklet but... that won't come around unless I finish up the story. ;) I just don't know what to write at the moment but working on it._


	35. Out of Sight wip

**Menagerie** - A collection of Short Stories and Drabbles in the world of White Collar. (_I don't own anything but I do like playing with the characters when I can._)

**Drabbles #35 **- _Out of Sight (WIP)  
_

(_friendship, hurt/comfort, SCI-FI, AU, spoilers for all seasons_)

**oOoOoOo**

Neal didn't care anymore, slumping down onto the park bench as he leaned back and stared up at the canopy of trees overhead. It had been a month since the case had been closed and nobody was the same, investigations into what went wrong flying around but he was safe for now. Hughes, Diana and Jones had promised to take over where Peter had left off until something could be planned or made permanent on Neal's situation. The agent was gone, plain and simple and for now, he was out of prison and miserable. He wiped at his face tiredly, a bit of scruff there that he hadn't shaved for the past few weeks matching the not so fancy clothes he wore: a pair of beat up jeans he only used for painting and an old grungy black tee. It wasn't like him to dress down like this in public but again, why should he care. The only person who'd ever truly believed in him was gone and he'd finally dragged himself out into the daylight to deal with it. Neal curled up on the bench, eyes watching him but not from people passing by but an agent not so far away pretending to _NOT_ be watching him. He still had his 2 mile radius for now but his future was up in the air. Peter was gone, dead for all anyone knew and the only witness to his murder was Neal who wished he could reverse the past two months and disappear himself.

_It's ok, Neal. It's not your fault._

He thought he heard Peter's voice, soft but in the background. He'd heard him several times now but it was too quiet to be anything but a thought of his own creation. Neal nodded at the voice as if Peter were there, wanting to believe the lie his mind had started to make recently. He even thought he felt his friend nearby but that just made things worse and Neal thought about Elizabeth. She had taken off to see her family upstate to deal with her grief so he had seen very little of her since the actual incident when he'd been the one to tell her what happened. They had yet to have a funeral or wake, nobody willing to give up on the idea of Peter being alive when all facts pointed to anything but.

"_I'm sorry, Peter. It should have been me..."_

He whispered the words to himself, to the air as he closed his eyes and tears dripped down his face. He thought he could feel a hand on his head, Peter's hand gently soothing him as he cried to himself or maybe it was just the wind.

"Neal?"

The con opened up his eyes and stared up tiredly, Mozzie hovering nearby and looking rather uncomfortable. Even his friend looked sad, no sign of him but for a few quick visits when everything had turned to hell just over a month back. Neal didn't even get up, he no longer cared if anyone saw him break down or cry. Besides, it was Mozzie. He'd seen far worse of him as he gave the little guy a brief nod and closed his eyes again. That feeling that someone was touching his hair stopped and he felt worse suddenly, sitting up as Mozzie sat beside him without another word. They sat in silence for a while before the con spoke.

"I... I've been looking into that case you and.. the Suit were working on. That particle accelerator is not something to sneeze at. Doran thought he could do some extraordinary things with the science. I have notes..."

The little guy meant well but Neal was not in the mood, standing up and turning only briefly to glare at his fellow con before taking off at a brisk walk. He sensed his shadow following too as well as Mozzie but he was in his own world, the sense that Peter wasn't there but how could he? It was just his imagination.

"Don't..."

He was trying to keep the little guy from talking any more about what happened. It had been too traumatic and he had yet to get over the image of Peter in that glass chamber with the inventor. The two men were fighting, arguing loudly as Neal watched. He had been hit over the head by Doran, the man figuring out he had been planted to spy on him, something the team hadn't anticipated when they sent Neal in undercover. Doran wasn't their target but his associate who was laundrying money was. He had been taken into custody but both Peter and Doran were gone, dead. Neal had seen it all as he'd come to, a bright flash of light blinding him momentarily before he found that his friend was nowhere to be seen and both men had vanish in the subatomic blast from the reactor inside the glass room.

"Doran thought he could create a transporter like in Star Trek..."

Mozzie's voice grated on him as he stopped and turned, giving his friend a look that would melt concrete before he let go.

"Stop it Mozz! I don't want to hear about conspiracies and theories about things we can't reverse or control! Just... go away! _Please._"

He barely said the last part, his anger more than he meant and he could see that Mozzie was hurting too. Elizabeth was gone out of the city but he had spent time with her helping her grieve as had Neal initially but it had come to be too much for everyone. June was treating him with kid gloves but giving him his space. He had locked himself up in his room for 3 weeks, today the first day he had finally decided he had to just go out and deal with things. He still couldn't cope as Mozzie nodded back, frowning up at him.

"Maybe later?"

His friend asked without really asking, Neal nodding back without turning as he took off and left the little guy in the park. He just wanted to be left alone in his grief as he headed back towards June's then paused, hailing a cab and ducking inside as he lost his shadow for a bit. The agent didn't look happy but Neal wasn't in the mood to care. He just wanted to be alone and only one place would make him happier at the moment.

"Where too, bud?"

The cabby spoke to him and he took a moment before answering as he gave Peter's address. It was technically out of his range but he had to go there. El wasn't home but he just had to go where his friend had been. The one place he felt like he had been with family. Call it silly but Neal wanted to feel close to his friend while the pain was still sharp.

_It's out of your radius. Neal... Like you can hear me._

The voice spoke in Peter's tone, chiding at first then resigned as he felt. He leaned back and stared out the window. He had gotten used to hearing Peter in his head now but it was just his own imagination talking. It was comforting to think he could imagine his friend so lifelike in his mind but also disturbing. If he was to go mad, he wouldn't want any other voice in his head.

"_I don't care. You were there, Peter."_

He spoke aloud, the driver looking back at him but he just ignored the stares and watched the landscape go by.

_I didn't think you owned anything this ragged, Neal. You really need to shave. Don't give up because of me._

Now it really did make him think of Peter, turning to the empty seat beside him in the back of the cab as he found himself imagining the agent sitting there giving him that fatherly frown he often did when he wasn't doing right. There was a quick flash of something and he thought he saw a shadowy shape but he rubbed his eyes and it was gone, Neal sighing as he felt the vehicle slow and pull over. He glanced down and saw his anklet hadn't gone red. Maybe someone knew he would come out here and changed his radius or it was broken. His eyes stared down at it a few minutes before he slipped out of the cab, paid the driver and walked up to a familiar house.

_Why are we here, Neal? Don't think about... of course you're going to break inside._

The voice was still very soft, not even audible on a mental level but he heard it quietly behind his own thoughts as Neal walked around to the back and jumped the fence. He took the spare key from the rock in the garden and entered the house, disarming the alarm and turning it off as he walked into the living room and just looked around. He felt lost, emptiness reminding him his friend wasn't here anymore and the warmth of his place was now fading into a feeling of sadness and remorse.

**()()()**

It was three hours later he was still sitting on the sofa in the Burke home, glancing down at his anklet off and on but finally just enjoying the buzz from the cheap boxed wine he had found in their cabinet. He'd enjoyed two cases as he leaned back and closed his eyes and tried to evaporate from the guilt and sadness he was feeling.

_Jesus, Neal! You're drunk and that was my wine. I expect you to restock but who am I kidding. I'm sure Mozzie doesn't replenish yours._

Peter's voice was louder now, not so much a subconscious thought as background whispers. The more he drank, the more he could hear the agent in his head as if he were nearby in the room. At some point Neal sat up and blinked, a shadowy shape pacing near him by the coffee table before it sat beside him on the sofa and a tingle like electricity or his arm falling asleep made him look at the shape curiously as it touched his shoulder.

_I know... this is not what I thought death would be like. I thought I'd be free to float around in some nether place with clouds I suppose._

Peter's voice seemed to come from the direction of the shadow which was really just a displacement of the air more than a real dark shape. Neal rubbed at his eyes and squinted trying to see in his drunken haze.

"Clouds? Cappuccino in the clouds? Sara told me she thought I lived up in the clouds... everyone acts like I'm some kind of messenger from up high living in a fantasy world. I guess if you're talking to me now, I am. Or it's this crappy wine. Why can't you buy something... goo... good, Peter? El has better taste than this. I'd forge it for you if you asked."

He slurred on the words here and there, hesitant but talking freely as if Peter were there as he continued to drink more or chug in some cases. The displacement or shadow seemed to grow more distinct as he found himself sleepier and tired from the overdose of alcohol. He thought Peter's frown was obvious from where the shadow sat beside him, that tingling when it drew close more than just him being drunk but who could say.

_Because you're Peter Pan. Mr. Optimist although right now I'd say you're doing a good job of out drinking Mozzie. I think he'd be jealous. You can't hear me. I'm probably imagining this all. I wonder if this is some kind of final test or my purgatory not that seeing you and everyone hasn't been fun but this is not how I envisioned spending the hereafter..._

Peter sounded tired, real to the con but in his drunken haze he just nodded back, eyes rolling underneath his lids as he started to pass out and that sensation of someone touching him on the head as Peter used to comforted him in his moment of weakness.

"I never told you... Peter... but I found the manifest. The night you called me from the van. I was in your room. Your home... "

His voice trailed off and he thought he heard that hiss of disappointment Peter often made when Neal did something wrong. It was almost comforting to know he was telling the truth, giving his friend a final gift of sorts. He wanted to unburden himself but his mind was faltering and he was passing into oblivion.

_Dammit Neal! I trusted you... but I think... I knew you must have found it. The Degas was too obviously forged... Dammit! You should have told me then but you were protecting Mozzie. I guess it matters little now. I'm dead and you're... you're asleep._

He was just passing into sleep, Peter's voice and the feeling of tingling that he could just make out as a hand touching his head were fading with his consciousness. He'd told the truth finally about something important to his friend and mentor. Peter knew... or at least the one in his head did. He felt unburdened to some extent that hand still mussing his hair as darkness overcame him.

**(TBC)**

**Author's Note:** _I am hoping to finish this. Just a little taste of things to come and a redo of another snippet I had one before. I didn't like the old copy so this will be the new one once I get done with it._


	36. Mugshot

**Menagerie** - A collection of Short Stories and Drabbles in the world of White Collar. (_I don't own anything but I do like playing with the characters when I can._)

**Drabbles #36 **- _Prison Pen pals_

(_humor, minor angst, pre-series, minor spoiler from Shoot the Moon_)

**oOoOoOo**

**Mugshot Monthly: August 2009 - Volume 5, Issue 25.**

**Inmate **_#24601_** - **_Neal Caffrey_

**Age:** _30_

**Height:** _5'11_

(_picture of inmate_)

Neal cringed at the listing, rolling his eyes slightly. A fellow inmate, one of the few he had made friends with had insisted they do this together. Plus Bobby the guard said it might make his stay that much less lonely if he communicated with other people outside of prison. The guard was more than aware of his infatuation with Kate and now that she had started visiting less frequently, loneliness had started to set in. It wouldn't hurt to talk to someone else even if it was some poor deluded woman who sent him a letter. He'd seen a few of the visitors and knew that's what they were: pen pals. Bobby had pointed a couple out to him and he'd been shocked to find that's who the woman was. He was intrigued by the idea but not keen on it as he read the posting and sighed, tossing the magazine aside and pulling out another with pictures of island escapes. It didn't help him feel better but it wasn't as depressing or embarrassing as being listed in that other magazine.

**()()()**

A month went by and he had forgotten about the magazine and the pen pal scheme when mail call came around. He expected a letter from Kate although she had been rather distant lately. Neal had about a year left of his sentence and he was worried something was wrong although she insisted everything was ok on their last visit. Maybe he was being paranoid as he heard footsteps near and saw Bobby smiling at him.

"You've got mail..."

There was a certain gleam in the guard's eyes, his head turning to someone, another guard with a large mail sack. Neal didn't think anything of it until they opened up his cell and handed it to him. Bobby was smirking now as he turned to leave and Neal stopped him with a cough.

"Aren't the other inmates going to be upset you gave me their mail?"

He figured it was a joke but the guard shook his head with that same smirking smile as if something were funny.

"That's all for you. Apparently your posting was the most popular one."

Bobby was full on grinning now, teeth showing and the other guard chuckling as he passed by with another bag. It took Neal a moment to process exactly what the man meant then he blinked back and Oh'd.

"Mugshot Monthly?"

Neal was looking at the rather large duffel bag of letters and sighed. Kate wouldn't be happy to know he was this popular with other women and he wasn't comfortable with it either at the moment. He must have been blushing because Bobby laughed a bit as the door shut.

"I'd let them down easy, Neal. Friends are a luxury and pen pals more so. It will keep you busy if nothing else."

He was left alone now, the guard's footsteps leaving him with the huge bag of mail he slowly moved to sift through. There had to be hundreds of letters here as he pulled one out and saw it was from Kate. Lucky him. He read it and smiled, glancing at the other mail and finally letting curiosity get the better of him as he opened one up with a plastic knife from the cafeteria he used as a letter opener. It was from a 45 year old woman in Montana who thought he was adorable. He sighed as he read the horribly overly friendly letter and tossed it aside. He was about to move on to the next one when it occurred to him it did no harm to read the rest. Maybe it was vanity but he managed to get through the bag of letters in about four days, writing some of the women back but feeling like he had just written the great American novel. With some help from Bobby he managed to write out a nice form letter and use that with fill in the blanks he copied on the office xerox machine and sent to as many of the women as he could. It was the least he could do.

He was surprised years later that anyone knew he'd been a part of the program, Jones teasing him as well as Sara and Diana. Kate had never known the truth about it but he hadn't taken up with any of the women though some had tried to meet with him. He was just glad copies of his posting were no longer around. It was as part of his past he would rather not talk about.

**(The End)**

**Author's Note****:** _Just a bit of fluff from that comment in "shoot the moon" about that weird magazine and the comments between Neal, Sara, Jones and Diana about it._


	37. Comfort one shot

**Menagerie** - A collection of Short Stories and Drabbles in the world of White Collar. (_I don't own anything but I do like playing with the characters when I can._)

**Drabbles #37 **- _Comfort_

(_Season 4 Spoilers, Angst_)

**oOoOoOo**

Neal never had the luxury of a real father. Ellen had taken up the roles of mother and sometimes father in some instances, her tough cop side coming through to keep him in line but most of the time she nurtured him as his mother should have. Maybe it was guilt over his father's passing or now that he knew the truth, conscience over what she knew about his father's reality that led her to coddle him at times. He had been an inventive child, making what he could from what he had and getting what he wanted if it meant creating a false roadblock to divert the school bus to his home so he could make it to school. Neal was always a clever and sensitive child, a mixture of his mother and absent father obvious. The reality Ellen thrust upon him on his 18th birthday which led him from a life of _comfort_ where he wanted to join law enforcement to a life of reckless abandon which led him into crime. The blame couldn't be completely placed on Ellen but he had indeed blamed it all on her for a very long time, not quite forgiving her or his emotionally distant mother who told him heroic falsehoods that he knew now were not to make him happy but keep the truth from her own self. The truth his mother had hated and driven her to ignore her only child was the same that had made Neal become self destructive in his own manner.

Neal had mulled over the revelation of his father's true past every day since he had run from the only home he knew. After meeting Mozzie they had worked out plans to find more about what had really happen but then he had been jailed and his search stopped. Once he joined forces with Peter he had renewed the search when it seemed his past was catching up with him. He had told Peter about his father but only that he was a cop and a dirty one at that. Neal knew more now, Ellen had told him enough before her death to lead him in the right direction in finding Sam the cop who knew what was really going on but that had ended up with more lies and complications. Sam wasn't _Sam_... he was _James Bennet_, his father. This was yet another obstacle added to his life where complications were commonplace to him now; Kate who left him then died because of his past with Adler, someone he thought might be a father figure but ended up being a monster in his own right. Elizabeth and Peter who'd been kidnapped because of his association with Keller not to mention the treasure and the _Raphael, _partially why Mozzie had been shot and both of them were later forced to run to a far off island. Sara helped him but could have lost her job while Peter had been suspended temporarily for giving him the signal to run. All the lies that Neal was forced to hide to keep those he cared for safe were becoming tiresome but he had dealt with it every day of his life and kept the burden to himself. It was hard enough dealing with his present but much more for Neal to deal with his father who was now so close to him; A man he didn't know and the reason that had started him on this road to conning which was staring him straight on.

"I've had three names and various alias because of you."

He had told his father that in genuine honestly as the man he was so uncertain of stared with little emotion back at him. They had been arguing about how to handle the retrieval of the evidence box. Peter needed to know that they had found it but that would mean he had to admit the use of the scanner for more than work. They had promised no lies and he hadn't exactly "_lied_" to his partner and friend. He, Mozzie nor James had used to scanner but that didn't make it anymore of a lie if not a twisting of the truth. Peter was the man who had given him a second chance if not some of the encouragement he had always needed when he was younger. With a man like Peter in his life, maybe his past would have ended up differently. He was more the figure his mother had spoken of in those stories he remembered while his real father barely held up a flame to the Agent's reputation.

"He's been more of a father to me than you ever have!"

The words had slipped out naturally and he had meant every one of them even if he saw a flicker of hurt in James' expression which soon turned cold. He hadn't meant to hurt his father but to give this man a heads up that he wasn't ready to give up what he had now just because he was suddenly here. Neal wanted everything, maybe that was his problem. He wanted Peter to be there for him but having his real father here, that was his dream finally realized. It had been like that with Kate. He had tricked Peter in a way to let him out to find Kate but in the end he liked the agent, liked the life he was living at June's but he wanted both worlds. That had blown up in his face both literally and figuratively with painful ramifications. His life was tragic to say the least and everything he touched was like Midas of myth. He just wanted to be happy.

"You're my son."

James said it without much emotion before leaving, the feeling lost as he closed the door and left. Just hours before they had been chatting about his artwork and the fact he had forged several pieces including the _DuBois_ so well that most experts would consider it "_THE_" masterpiece. It had been a great few moments feeling something Neal had always wanted to experience. His father was complimenting him, giving him praise and support and a much needed pat on the shoulder. Peter supported him but rarely said much in the way of praise to him directly. Neal didn't take it personally but their relationship was on a different level than that of a real father and son not to mention the fact that Peter wasn't one to say his feelings aloud. If he could only hear those words from the agent maybe...

Neal sighed, the map of the 50th floor on the table in his room as he paced the floor a few times before pulling out his cell. He was looking at the screen, something in him wanting to call Peter and let him know what was up but instead of calling the agent he let several hours pass and instead called Mozzie.

"_Do you realize what time it is?_"

Neal sighed and nodded to himself, talking quietly into the phone.

"Yeah... do you have a minute?"

He waited, leaving what he had to say open and guessing his friend would know what he meant.

"_Sure. I was up reading the scans over again on my laptop. 15 minutes ok?_"

Neal nodded with a grunt of agreement as he hung up and toss the cell onto the table top. They had promised no secrets but a part of him wanted to make his real father proud of him. This was his chance to really get to know the man and if it meant pushing Peter aside for a while, Neal would do it. He had meant what he said but while the agent only took care of him because he had to, James was supposed to. He was blood. A part of him knew that to trust someone so soon was wrong but his inner child was pouting, throwing a fit and ignoring all the signs pointing to _no_. He wasn't listening to the nagging voice in the back of his head anymore. It warned him about Agent Calloway but not about his father. Blinders were up and he was going to see this through. Family came first. Elizabeth had taught him that recently and it made him realize just how tenuous his relationship with his current friends were. He just wanted comfort and his own place to call home once and for all. Mozzie said it wasn't possible for men like them but somewhere deep inside Neal craved what he had always read about. He looked down at the plans on the table again and sat, his mind reeling with all the emotions and thoughts of what was going down. He should tell Peter but then he had to admit to the subterfuge on the last case. Calloway would get upset if she found out what he did and it would lash back on Peter. Better to keep the agent in the dark much as he hated to do it. It wasn't his first inclination to be truthful but Peter had a way of making him try.

"_Tomorrow... after we have the box, I'll tell him then._"

He spoke the words aloud to himself, a kind of mantra reassuring himself when his own conscience was telling him otherwise. Maybe he was like Pinocchio, needing a reason to become a real live boy but for now, his lies were his life and that was what he would continue to believe to keep himself from feeling guilty.

**()()()**

His talk with Mozzie didn't help him decide any more wisely than before their discussion. It went long into the night and the con man he called friend ended up sleeping on the sofa at some point while Neal continued to feel conflicted about leaving Peter out of the loop. When morning arrived, June noticed the signs of sleeplessness in him but said nothing as he got ready for work and went in. Agent Calloway seemed to be watching them more than usual he thought or maybe he was paranoid about his lies as Peter spoke to him about work and Neal acted far more distracted than normal.

"I'm ok Peter. Was just a rough night."

The agent nodded but looked worriedly at him as they went through a lieu of mortgage fraud cases that were quickly closed with Neal's help. Just another day's work and he was more exhausted than usual when he got home only to find James there.

"You look like you haven't slept much."

Neal heard more than just the words, James' manner obvious worried about their argument the other night but he just smiled back at his "_father_" and shrugged.

"Long day at work. I guess you're here to discuss the box?"

He was beyond fighting the point as the man shrugged back and motioned for him to sit at the sofa. He saw a beer, the ones he usually left for Peter in the fridge sitting on the coffee table. James was drinking one and smiling slightly.

"Tell me about your day then we'll discuss the box. Have a beer with your old man."

It was a less than smooth way to sooth things with Neal but he took the bait, pretending he was with Peter and they were discussing a case. It helped make the ugly truth a bit prettier. They talked quietly, Neal telling James something about the boring cases he had to work on that day and his father nodded with a knowing look.

"Paperwork is the least amount of fun you can have at a job. Give me a case where I stretched my legs and I was happiest. Ellen understood that but your mother... she worried every night and day about me especially after your birth. She insisted I go into a less dangerous section like fraud. Elizabeth reminds me of your mother before everything went south. Your friend Peter is a lucky man."

James sipped at his beer a moment, quiet contemplation on his face as they sat in silence for a few minutes. A knock on the door in iambic pentameter made them both turn, Neal knowing exactly who was there.

"Come in Mozz..."

The little guy appeared, closing the door behind him and looking not a bit surprised that James was there.

"Good, you're both here. I have news... I know how we can get inside without being obvious."

James perked up at those words, Neal nodding for Mozzie to come closer and their discussion about the con to get the box without Peter begun.

**(TBC)**

**Author's Note:** _Just a little something based on the current "The Original" episode as well as the upcoming clips of the Finale. Maybe an insight into what Neal is thinking about everything. I want to write so much more but maybe after the finale._


	38. Bad Blood S4 Finale Spoilers

**Menagerie** - A collection of Short Stories and Drabbles in the world of White Collar. (_I don't own anything but I do like playing with the characters when I can._)

**Drabbles #38 **- _Bad Blood_

(_friendship, hurt/comfort,__** FINALE SPOILERS!**_)

**oOoOoOo**

James left the room, Neal's disappointed and shocked expression following him as he said those last words he knew he'd regret but meant: _Let me give you some advice. In this life, someone always takes a fall. Don't let it be you._

He had finally gotten his revenge even if it meant alienating his one and only child. Pratt was gone and he was free now. Hell with Agent Burke! The man was nothing more than a pawn like the rest of them. He knew the agent would go across the line as James had for someone he cared for and just like James, Peter would pay for trusting in someone who could easily stab him in the back. It had cost him everything when he worked for the Flynn's and now he was finally free of that curse at least as he closed the door and started down the stairs. Someone was there waiting, Neal's landlady June with a disapproving look on her face. He'd learned in the few days that he had been here she, like everyone else his son had come in contact with, was overly protective of Neal. There was a certain jealousy there, his mind going back to when Neal had said Peter was _more_ a father than he had been. Perhaps this last act of bad faith had been a slap in his son's face for that comment. They were strangers and always would be now. Neal wasn't his to keep and he had just ensured that.

"Leaving so soon, James? I thought perhaps there'd be some kind of celebration."

She was choosing her words carefully but he was in a hurry to go and knew that Neal wouldn't give him the evidence he had worked so hard to get. Ellen hadn't trusted him and she had been right not to remembering the night they'd fought and he'd left before Flynn's men had killed her. He hadn't been the one to pull the trigger as he had today but he had gotten close. She was self righteous like Burke. A goody two shoes who had no stomach for what needed to be done. How his son dealt with that he couldn't understand and now he never would. He would deal. James had dealt for a very long time.

"I'm just going out for some air..."

He gave her a false smile as he tried to pass but something flashed in her eyes as she blocked his path and her expression turned cold.

"A child's love is hard to come by and losing that love is even harder to gain back. He's been waiting a very long time, James."

Something in her words made him think she knew what had happened but he realized she was just saying what she felt. Neal trusted her implicitly. James nodded tersely back, annoyed at the delay. He needed a quick escape before the law came looking for him. They were looking for Neal too but he didn't care. Unlike his son, he could go where he pleased without worrying about others. He had to go before anyone else knew. James Bennett was free of one prison and running off to hide from another chance at being locked up. He wasn't a fool or stupid enough to stick behind because of his son. Neal had made it clear the other day that they were less than kin when he said Peter was more of a father to him. The kid could take care of himself, spite making him angry at the young man.

"Thank you but I think I know what I'm doing, June."

She nodded, holding up a hand before he could finish, her expression colder now as she stepped aside for him to pass.

"Neal's been through enough heartache. Don't make me sorry for letting you up here."

**()()()**

It was a few minutes later that Mozzie showed up but James was gone, June wondering why the little con man was so worked up. She had tried talking to Neal but he was missing from his room. Something felt off as she did her best to calm Mozz and gasped at his news.

"Peter's been arrested? But why?"

She was shocked, turning to the stairs as she saw Neal come running down and everyone grew quiet.

"My... _James_ framed Peter for Pratt's murder. He's been arrested. I already know about it Mozz. _James_ told me."

His emphasis on his father's name rather than calling him _dad_ was obvious. Neal was pissed but he was doing his best to fight the anger and shock. June felt terrible now, something in her heart sick as she realized she should have held the man Neal called his father back. Guilt ate at her for not realizing what was up her attention on her boarder. Neal looked cold, resigned in some manner if not shocked. Mostly he looked sick in his soul as he continued his trek down the stairs towards them when finally Mozz broke the silence.

"That bastard! You told him to confess didn't you? It's Peter!"

June was happy to see that Mozzie was upset about the agent where he normally called him _Suit_ but had Elizabeth found out already? How must the agent's wife after all the excitement of the last few months be taking this? She cleared her throat and held up a hand.

"Has anyone thought to call Elizabeth?"

That's when the silence really hit them hard and she saw the ache in Neal's eyes. His face paled as he shook his head and moved to pull out his cell then stopped, moving towards the door. June gently grasped his arm which made him stopped, something metallic and shiny pushed into his hand. It was the key to her car.

"Go. Talk to her. I'll call a few favors in to find him after I call my attorney. Peter's going to need one."

**()()()**

Elizabeth was finishing gazing at herself in the mirror. Something felt off so she looked at her dress again, checked herself from every angle but still, there was a certain wrongness of everything nagging at her she didn't understand. Her eyes went back to the bedside table and her phone. It was quiet, no call from Peter yet but it was only 3 PM now. Maybe the search was going on longer as it always seemed to. She sighed, smiling and then chuckling to herself. She had been worried about this operation but Peter had guaranteed he would take her out. Everything would be ok. She moved to grab up her purse when she heard a knock downstairs. Elizabeth left to answer it surprised to see Neal and Mozzie but no Peter.

"Neal... Mozzie... Where is Peter?"

She glanced past them to the street outside but only saw June's Rolls parked out there. There was no sign of the Taurus or her husband as that feeling she'd had upstairs returned. Neal looked pale, blue eyes shiny while Mozzie looked like a 2 year old holding back on screaming at the top of their lungs. They were both trying too hard to be calm and that in itself was making her nervous. Neal seemed calmer than usual and that made her intuition kick in.

"Can we come inside?

She nodded, moving aside for them to enter as they closed the door and stood around a moment before sitting down, Neal taking a seat beside her on the sofa as he took her hand in his and squeezed it.

"Peter... he's been _arrested_."

Those words were sudden like a stab to the heart and at first El didn't believe she heard them correctly until she saw the expression on the faces of the two men who had wormed their way into Peter and her's hearts. They were telling the truth only what truth was there and how would she accept it?

"Neal... what happened?"

She wasn't being accusatory but he seemed to take it that way, face pale but for a flush of shame coming to his cheeks and then she knew it was worse than she imagined. Worse than even the accident.

"Neal..."

She was begging him now, El taking his chin in her hand so he was forced to look at her and finally, he spoke.

"They think... they think he shot Pratt. James used Peter's gun and shot him... Diana said he was arrested for the murder of the senator."

He spoke slowly, true regret and anger there if not betrayal evident in his tone. Neal met her eyes as he spoke to her and she knew he was telling her the truth. There was nothing she could say, her mind a blank more than it had been when Peter had been hurt and the agents had come to tell her what had happened. Even more so than when she found out about his kidnapping or poisoning. She just stood uncertain what to do as she walked to the kitchen and then turned after a moment to see Neal with his face in his hands. Was he crying? She had never seen him cry not even when Kate had died. Mozzie was oddly silent but still that look of needing to be heard was there as she coughed, clearing her now dry throat to get their attention.

"Your father... James... he's going to help right? You asked him to tell them the truth, Neal. Admit what he did. Neal..."

She was standing there across the room as he shook his head, rising to his feet, blue eyes covered in tears. That betrayed glance let her know one thing. While Neal had Peter's back it wasn't the same with his father and she bit her lip for fear of saying something regretful. The con man was already in pain and it wasn't... no it wasn't his fault what happened. She wanted to blame him but he had been fooled by the facade of his long lost father as much as Peter and she had. James had been the wolf all along and not the innocent sheep they had hoped for. She moved over to the phone, dialed a number and waited.

"Reese... it's Elizabeth. You know... yes, I just... what? Why would they... No, I'll let him know if I see him. Thank you. Peter will appreciate that."

She hung up the phone, staring at them both and then at the window behind where they sat as her eyes widened.

"He said he knows and he's working on clearing Peter's name but... there's an arrest warrant for you Neal. What aren't you telling me?"

She wasn't angry but she was concerned that he would be lost before they could help clear her husband's name and Neal was the only one who could find James now. He wiped at his face and blinked at her.

"Pratt. He said James assaulted him and I was there. I didn't do anything but I was _there_. Maybe if I turn myself in..."

She held up a hand to him and shook her head, pointing at the back door.

"Go... find James, both of you and make sure you drag him back in irons if you have to. I'll act the surprised spouse. _They're outside._"

She was giving him an out, letting Neal know she trusted him to help her husband. They had all been tricked by James Bennett and now it was up to them to get him back to free her husband. Mozzie and Neal nodded grimly back, glancing at the window to see two cruisers showing up outside, four agents in _Brook Bros_ suits coming towards the house.

"I will, Elizabeth. _He_ won't fool me again."

Neal sounded cold and determined while Mozzie looked ready to put a hit out on someone. He'd done it before when she was kidnapped and El knew from that to trust these two cons with her husband's future for once. She didn't question Neal's loyalty to Peter or herself.

"We'll find James and make him pay for this, El. Don't worry."

Mozzie sounded cold as he spoke, squeezing her hand before she gave them both a quick hug as they escaped out the back door, the sound of footsteps at her front entrance became obvious. Her acting skills would be critical here. She had noticed Neal was off anklet, glad he was free to help Peter as need have it. El would never turn them in. She was certain by the look on Mozzie and Neal's faces that James Bennett was going to find out exactly what a real family could do to garner revenge on those that hurt their own.

**(TBC)**

**Author's Note****:** _A little taste of a What if for after that horrible finale ending. I have more but will write later. Still processing after my 2nd viewing. Bad taste in the mouth from it._


	39. I Dream of Caffrey wip

_Petrov_ was a good Caliph, protecting the people of his town from the dangers of magic, marauding hordes and especially out of control genies. There was one particular genie causing him issue. His people complained of cattle, riches and food disappearing from their silos, barns and homes. A mischievous imp by the name of _Nikolai_ had begun to roam their fair province. The fathers in the village were upset that their daughters might fall under the influence of such a creature. Many young girl and wife spoke of how handsome the genie was which made the men under Petrov's protection angry when they found things missing or their wives and daughters seemingly entranced by the creature. Nikolai was unduly influencing the women so that they did not notice him taking things. But Petrov had a plan, one young woman the apple of the genie's eye and seemingly special. Her name was _Katarina_, a blue eyed beauty who seemed immune to the wiles of the genie and was maybe why he loved her so much. Perhaps she would be the perfect bait. Petrov had a plan.

"We will watch Katarina day and night. Her father has approved of such a measure if it means we catch this genie, once and for all. Nikolai must be stopped at all costs!"

His men agreed, taking up residence in the home of Katarina and her father as servants and staff. Petrov himself talked to the young woman but she was strangely stand offish to him which surprised the Caliph.

"He's not a bad genie, your eminence. He just wants to be free and he knows that I wish to do the same."

Her words seemed haunted by something, blue eyes wistful of some past injury or hurt and it made Petrov all the more determined to figure out the mystery of how these two were involved.

"I will catch him, Katarina. While my father was unable to do so, I will make sure I succeed where he and past Caliphs failed."

His words made her blink in surprise, a hint of worry there but she dismissed him despite his rank and he let her be for the moment. Petrov had to make sure they had cooperation from her as well as her father. The man was elusive but he had sent word they could enter his home and capture the genie if necessary. Katarina seemed indifferent at best, hiding her intentions. Nikolai liked her and Petrov was wondering why when he heard a noise, a horse neighing below then quieting. Soon there was a dog barking and it quieted quickly before he saw what was going on. He peeked out the window and saw that the horses, cattle and dog were all sleeping as were the guards and everyone else in the village. Standing near the entrance to the home was a man in dark clothes, walking slowly forward. Petrov went to call on his men inside but found them all sleeping too, including the staff for the home and only he and Kate seemed to be awake. This was turning out to be an odd occurrence, the Caliph giving a yawn but fighting the effects as he moved back towards Katarina's room.

"You're here… I didn't think…"

Katarina spoke quietly, breathily as if she were truly happy to see him. Petrov fought another yawn, moving closer to the entrance and peering inside. Nikolai hovered at the window sill outside, smiling at the young woman and seemingly unaware that he was there.

"You called me and I answered. I would never harm you. Did you like the bracelet I brought you? It belonged to a spoiled princess. She will not miss it once she wakes up. Her father can buy her more."

The genie's voice was gentle, his love for the woman evident while her manner seemed a bit more aloof. Petrov watched in interest curious if he could capture the genie by himself.

"It's… pretty."

Katarina's voice was hesitant, something in the manner she spoke indicating something was about to be revealed. Petrov listened in interest.

"I sense an exception in your tone, my love. Why the hesitation? Have I not brought you what I promised? I just want to see you happy as I am."

Nikolai looked as if he was uncertain what to do, obvious that he wished to please Katarina who was still unhappy. Petrov remembered his plan, going to grab the item that would capture the genie as he tried to rouse a few of his men. With the creature distracted, two of his men woke, following him with the means to capture it.

"I've done everything for you, my love. Are you still so unhappy? Have I not given you what I promised that day we met?"

The genie's voice was petulant but he obviously loved the young woman as Petrov came around on the outer balcony, quietly. His men knew what to do and he was sure this would be the end of the genie's reign.

"You've done everything but I…"

Katarina paused, mens voice obvious as Petrov waited within reach of the floating menace. Nikolai didn't know he was there as he came within inches of him.

"What treachery is this. Should I cast another sleeping spell on you fools? I won't be…"

Nikolai's words paused, his blue eyes sparkling brightly as Petrov touched an ornate bottle to the genie's bare arm and something happened. He said the magic words to make it so, the look on Nikolai's face going from surprised to almost calm. It made little sense to the Caliph except that the genie knew he was caught.

"Go forth into the bottle genie! Be slave to the vessel and do my bidding!"

Those words left his lips and he watched Nikolai nod, a sad glint to those eyes before he turned to smoke and vanished into the bottle in Petrov's hands. He quickly corked the bottle, Kate looking on with an expression that gave no hint if she was upset or angry with them. She was impassioned at best, frowning slightly to show her unhappiness with the situation but nothing more. He bowed to her, his men doing the same as they went to wake the rest of the house and leave her in peace.

**()()()**

_Three Years Later…_

The kingdom of Petrov had prospered. He and his lovely wife Eliza were happily engaged in the business of their castle. Petrov was performing his usual tasks, law and order a must in the land. His men had been in pursuit of a rogue who stole and ravaged many a treasure. The man had no name at present, his identity unknown but for his trademark of disappearing like a genie when any law arrived. He was like a ghost, faking parchments and stealing goods and treasures. Petrov was determined to find the man now that this ghost was in his kingdom.

"Caliph, there is news…"

A young woman, one of his most trusted advisers and a daughter of a trusted ally spoke to him. She bowed her head but there was an obvious frown on her face. Petrov summoned her forward, her manner urgent as she leaned towards him.

"Diana, I hope it is about my current case. This ghost eludes everyone even with eyewitnesses."

He was frustrated by lack of knowledge on the man who stole at will like a genie but who was obviously flesh and blood. What manner of thief worked as this one did without chance of being caught? He noticed the look in her eyes, Petrov curious now.

"This is about Nikolai, my lord Caliph. He's escaped."

**()()()**

_Earlier that same day..._

Nikolai languished in the bottle, never being allowed out into the world but for the occasional task when the Caliph allowed it. It was menial work at best and not to his creative tendencies. His only happiness was that he was able to visit with Katarina, the young woman visiting him weekly in the palace with Petrov's permission. She was a rare flower of the desert, one he hoped to set roots with if he were ever free again. They would disappear to the farthest reaches where no man would make him a slave again and he would do right for her.

"How is your father, dearest Katarina?"

Nikolai was allowed a few minutes from the bottle when Katarina visited but it was under supervision of the Caliph's men. She frowned, something troubling the young woman as she paced near him.

"I was happy before but now… you're a prisoner. It's not the same, Nikolai. I can't… I can't see you anymore."

She was distraught but there were other indications something was wrong. Nikolai tried to embrace her but the bottle kept him at arms length from her. The Caliph had made it impossible for him to touch another person so long as the bottle kept him prisoner.

"Katarina?"

She moved out of his reach, a shuttered look to her face as she apologized then left. Nikolai tried to follow but his tie to the bottle kept him from moving far, the Caliph's men watching him with a cautious eye before he could no more than just go back into the vessel he was attached to and sulk. She was gone, the one person he would give up his freedom for willingly had left him and he had no idea why. He wanted to cry, tossing what little stuff he was allowed in luxuries around the home inside the bottle… no the cell he was allowed. He didn't blame the Caliph for his woes but his own hubris. He had thought himself invincible in his careless pursuit to see if he could do what he liked when he liked. Now he was paying the price for that foolishness, collapsing to the pile of pillows by a false fireplace in his prison. It was nice, beautiful even but it wasn't real. Nothing in this place was real, only set up to make him comfortable while he was imprisoned and it irked him to no end.

Time passed and he was given privileges beyond what he did before for the Caliph. These were by his ministers, using the genie as you might a servant but he listened and waited for someone to give him more freedom than he was supposed to have. Someone would make an error and he would be ready.

"Genie… take water from the river and put it in his Caliph's well. I will leave you to it, Genie."

This man wasn't so nice as the others but he was lazy, making Nikolai do some of the more mundane tasks and not paying any attention to who or what he was dealing with. The man's wife passed, glancing at him curiously as her husband walked away to tend to another matter a few feet away. Nikolai smiled coyly at her and she giggled and smiled back, drawing closer as he did as he was told. Water was flowing from above down to the well beside him. His bottle was nearby out of reach in a bag the minister had brought with him.

"It is a hard job of a genie to do the wishes of men who do not appreciate him."

He muttered the phrase tiredly, the minister's wife moving closer. She looked sympathetic, offering him some water from the well as it filled and he took it gladly. He was unable to touch her but he could adjust the wind to brush her face and make her smile.

"Such a handsome genie should not be working but you were stealing from us. I am sorry for your imprisonment. What can I do short of freeing you, dearest genie?"

She was under his spell, as had so many other women in the village as he smiled and finished the water.

"I only ask that you put my bottle in a cooler place. Your husband doesn't care that I live in such a vessel and that the sun make it uncomfortable for me."

He wiped dramatically at his brow as if to hint that he was overheated. The woman nodded, moving closer to her husband's bag as she pulled the bottle out and gave it a look. It was bejeweled and decorated with ornate gold leaf which was the curse that kept the genie bound.

"Such a beautiful bottle. I bet you would steal it if you were not bound to it."

She had barely said such words when her husband turned, dark eyes boring into both of them.

"Wife! What are you doing with that bottle? Put it back!"

The minister yelled at her but it only startled the woman, the bottle slipping from her fingers and shattering into a million pieces on the ground before her. In a moment Nikolai felt his power return, freedom was his as he finished his task, kissed her hand and promptly disappeared. He would find Katarina and convince her of his love now. He was free again...

**()()()**

Petrov sighed, wondering how his ministers had messed this up. Yosef admitted his wife had been involved and apologized profusely for her mistake. The genie was wiley and had lured her to pick up the bottle under the pretense he was too hot. She had dropped the bottle and freed him without realizing her wrong doing. The Caliph sighed, wondering how the man had allowed his wife access to their genie. Nikolai would wreck havoc now as he nodded to his men to follow him. They would scour the kingdom for the rogue and make sure he was put back in a new bottle. His alchemist was making one as they headed out. _If he were a genie…_

"Katarina… of course! When was the last time she visited?"

One of his guards who had been in charge of the bottle shrugged.

"It's been about a month since her last visit my lord. He was not the same after that but he performed the duties you asked us to have him do as needed."

The guard seemed unperturbed by the fact that Katarina might be the reason for Nikolai's escape. The young woman had charmed the genie although if their feelings were mutual, Petrov could not tell.

"Then we go to see Katarina. Send every guard to her home and have my alchemist bring the bottle when it is done."

**()()()**

Nikolai roamed the empty halls of the small manor, no signs of his beloved anywhere within it's silent walls. It wasn't until he went to her room, the one that overlooked the river that he saw a sign. It had been a joke but more a promise that he would always be hers. He lifted the item up, no curse upon its gilded colorful sides as he sighed and sat with the bottle upon his lap. This was what he had promised to her… to be her genie forever without fear he would leave. The bottle had been that promise for better things and that if he could chain himself to anyone, it would have been to her own hand.

"Is that your new home?"

He glanced up to see that someone was there. The Caliph stood at the doorway, walking closer but just out of reach as if cautious of him. He was not a violent genie like some and chose more to play tricks and take things that he liked than to hurt people.

"It could have been. It was a promise to Katarina… but she's gone now."

He was deflated, his heart broken and he didn't know why she had left him. They had been in love… or so he thought. The Caliph coughed, his attention brought from his misery to the man who had imprisoned him. There was something about the tunic… that cape… Nikolai stifled a laugh uncertain if he would or could insult this man. They were equals.

"Something the matter? I have my men waiting to capture you and some from another kingdom who want restitution if you aren't caught by me."

Petrov was friendly but firm and Nikolai rose, smiling at him.

"That is the same tunic you wore the last time I was captured. For a ruler, you must have more clothes than this to lead your kingdom."

He was only mildly teasing the man but the Caliph shrugged, looking down at his clothes and smiling.

"I like this tunic and the tailor who made it retired some years ago. I liked his style despite what everyone else might say."

Footsteps interrupted their chat, Nikolai no longer willing to run when he had no idea where Katarina was. Maybe imprisonment had softened him but his eyes caught something on the fingers of the Caliph. Something that interested him greatly.

"You were looking at forgeries…"

The Caliph stiffened at his words, glancing at Nikolai curiously until the genie pointed at his fingers.

"The smudged ink. I can smell the hint of parchment but it is newer paper made to seem old. What would you say if I could help you find this… man?"

Suddenly the image of the papers he had been looking at appeared in the air like a ghost, showing something that the Caliph and his ministers hadn't been able to see. The genie pointed at a particular part of the image and smiled.

"I can tell you who did this… what it means if you visit me. It gets lonely in a bottle."

Nikolai held up his hands, men taking him into chains marked so that he couldn't escape but he let himself be taken without force. He could see the look on the Caliph's face was confusion and wonder as he repeated his offer.

"Come talk to me in my bottle. All may be revealed, sire."

**(TBA)**

**Author's Note:** _A work in progress that came to me. Must be watching too much "__once upon a time__."_


End file.
